


Trinity

by hmmaster



Category: The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M, Self-Insert, siphoner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-06-16 05:04:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 36,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15429615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmmaster/pseuds/hmmaster
Summary: Knowing that the supernatural events surrounding the doppelganger's life were about to begin, the life of the gay siphoner Logan Masters is about to become far more complicated. With both the expected and the unexpected threatening the town of Mystic Falls, protecting the lives of Elena and her friends may be more trouble than anyone can predict.





	1. Welcome To Mystic Falls

My mom- my real mom- always said to stay away from hitchhikers. Never imagined that I would ever be that person, but it's hardly the weirdest thing about this whole mess. I suppose living a second life is weird enough on its own, but when you add the complicated layer of the supernatural on top of it? There's no contest.

"You cold, hun?"

Standing outside for hours in the early September night should be mildly chilly, and I fumble with my watch for the umpteenth time. I'm honestly hungrier than anything else, but by now, I'm not far from town.

"No, ma'am."

The elderly woman chuckles, gripping the wheel tighter. "You're blessed with youth, son. These are old bones. I'd have been freezing."

I had a feeling that it could be the middle of winter, and I'd still be fine. It took a strange amount of willpower to not demonstrate why. Can't use up the minimal resources I have.

"Oh, ma'am, I don't think you look old."

Honestly, she doesn't look old. I guess she's in her early fifties, but maybe she'd had work done? I look around the clunker of a car and frown. Probably not that option. She just looks young.

She laughs. "Oh honey, you flatter me. I'm much older than I look."

A tiny twinge of paranoia rushes through me for several seconds. If that fear is justified, what in the hell is she doing driving an old nineties Corolla?

If she is a vampire, the odds of her knowing about me are negligible. But still, I can test it. I study her for a few quick seconds, earrings glimmering in the light. They are a dark stone wrapped in sterling silver, which sets off all my warning signs; it could be a coincidence, but I'm getting closer and closer to Mystic Falls. If real life there is at all like the television show depicts it, then the odds of meeting a vampire is ridiculously high.

I put on a solemn expression. "My mom had earrings like these." I reach up to touch them, brushing the tip of my forefinger against her cheek ever so slightly. Long enough to initiate contact. For that ever so brief moment, I nudge my abilities.

Nothing happens. Nothing from the earrings or from her skin, and I'm so relieved. Truly would have been rude to have to kill her. I'm a little disappointed truthfully; draining magic is ridiculously addicting. The rush of all that power at my fingertips, even if for so brief a moment, is pure intoxication.

My addictive personality was not made for this.

"Oh really?" The woman thankfully does not call me out on the creepy skin contact from her hitchhiker. "What's your mom like?"

Ooh. Loaded question of the day. Do I tell her about the retired Alabama schoolteacher from my old life, or the tarot card reader from Seattle from my new one? Eh, I'll settle for the new one.

"Mom's a basket case. Thinks she's psychic or something." Well, she is, but this woman doesn't need to know that. "Owns a shop, does some palm reading. I couldn't handle the crazy anymore, so I left home." Megan actually is a little weird, but you can't help but get attached to people when you live with them for eighteen years. She's still my mom, just maybe not my actual mom. Reincarnation is weird...

The woman looks at me with compassion. "Oh, sweetheart. That's… I don't know what to say. What about your-"

"Never met him, died when I was two." Probably shouldn't tell that story. "Decided for a huge change of pace, picked a random spot on the map. Virginia seemed good enough." Not true at all, but I'm going to be lying quite a bit. Might as well start crafting that alibi now. My memory is fuzzy, but as far as I remember, Sheriff Forbes is actually not bad at her job.

The woman frowns. "I'm so sorry. I… lost my own father when I was young, to cancer." I nod in sympathy, looking ahead as the woods grew thicker. Any minute now, I expect to see the welcoming sign as I cross the town limits. Wonder if it'll look like the one on the show? "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Logan. And you?"

"Savannah," she says with a compassionate smile. "What's your plan when you get into town?"

I shrug. "Probably check into a hotel." Need to get a job soon. Probably at The Mystic Grill, most likely, for plot impact. "Thought I might see some of the historical sites, enjoy the comet festival later this week." I planned to really enjoy that.

"What about long term plans? College?" the woman asks in earnest. "There are a couple of schools nearby. I wouldn't trade my degree for anything!"

Like Whitmore? Reminds me to look up Professor Shane. Wonder if there's a way to perform Expression as a Siphoner and avoid the nasty side effects? Probably without the ritualistic sacrifice, I suppose.

"I'll definitely look into it." I pause, knowing that she's likely going to ask. "I'm not sure what I would study, but I've heard that… Whitmore, I think, has an Occult Studies program. When I found that out, kinda made me wonder if there's more to what Mom was doing."

I should be a terrible liar, but years and years of practice have crafted something truly special.

Savannah turns toward me briefly, studying my face. "You never know, son. God works in mysterious ways." Right. This is the South. Probably should get used to that again. "But I thin-"

Something smashes into the back right side of the vehicle with a cacophonous sound, and the car flips off the road, spinning through the air. My head smacks hard against the passenger window before I can even think to do anything at all, the same glass shattering as the vehicle lands upside down, smoke billowing from the engine.

Everything is a blur, adrenaline flooding my system. There's an unknown amount of pain coming from somewhere on my lower body, distracting me from any significant ability to focus. I glance toward the driver, terrified of what I'll find.

The grotesque image of Savannah's blood flowing from her neck and dripping over her face, choking to death on her own livelihood, will forever be burned in my memory.

I flip away, fighting away the urge to vomit in all this goddamn chaos. Need to keep a level head. Level head, level head.

The fucking absurdity of high-top Converses stares me in the face through the cracked glass. My brow furrows, all my danger senses flaring, and I'm already draining the magic in the watch.

The vampire's face, the eyes discolored and fangs proudly on display, tips down as she reaches for me with her left arm. Don't know why she isn't bothering with her super speed, but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

A single word in bastardized Latin snaps her shoulder, twisting it in the most terrifying way possible. She grunts, biting back a scream. Another spell hurls her head toward the ground, then snaps her neck.

Don't know exactly how long it would normally take for a vampire's neck to heal, but the show gives the impression that it's at least a few hours. I should be safe.

'Course, I'm not going to give her that chance.

I shove the deflated airbag away from me, hold one arm to the roof, and then unlatch the seatbelt. I fall painfully, awkwardly, and when I finally get a chance to look at it, my thigh has a distressingly deep gash from a piece of glass.

Goddamn.

I lean against the car to catch my breath, staring at the vampire below. Dark hair, pretty, Asian features. Hello, Annabelle.

Not the first named character I've met before, but it's still weird to see actual characters from the show who happen to look like actors and actresses. An odd uncanny valley-type feeling that prevents them from feeling completley real until you get used to it.

I reach back inside the car to grab my bag, pulling out the kit. Carefully unwrapping two syringes from the pack, I uncap one and lean down toward Anna, ignoring the pain from my bleeding leg. Finding the vein and injecting it within her neck, I take some of her blood into the first syringe, and then carefully eject its contents in the skin around the tear in my jeans.

The wound closes within a few seconds. Any sane person who's aware of how this works would consider this a huge risk, but a person with my abilities? Not even a problem.

I fill up a second syringe and carefully re-cap it, consider the situation briefly, and then fill up a third while I've got her. Can't take any chances, because you never know when it might help to have more on hand. I'd give it to Savannah, but there's no way she's still alive. Wouldn't help, and I wouldn't want to waste this precious resource on trying to help a lost cause. Even if she's such a kind woman who did not deserve this.

That horribly gaudy ring on Anna's finger? I briefly consider taking it, or at least draining the spell fro it. Killing Anna would fix so many, many problems in the first season. However, I am not confident enough that vampire blood still retains its special healing or even turning properties when the vampire dies, and losing that wouldn't be worth it. And once she meets Jeremy, she evens out a lot. Might even be worth trying to keep her alive longer than in canon.

Instead, I reach down and touch her forehead. Red light briefly glows as I top myself off magically. That huge rush of power flows through me, and I bask in its radiance for several seconds before I utter the words of the pesky but useful storage spell. The magic flows into the watch on my wrist until I'm certain that it is at maximum capacity. The metal is… rusting from overuse at this point, but Mom always swore that there aren't very many better conductors for magical energy than a silver-palladium mix. Something to investigate.

I siphon more magic from Anna's vampiric nature until I'm certain that I have enough to last several days without having to drain from the watch. I'm not sure what it is about my nature that prevents me from holding magic of my own, even when I'm not used it, but magic often makes little sense. Siphoners just aren't born with the same mix of technobabble genetics that normal witches have. Honestly, if not for bigger and better goals, I'd off myself right now, wake up as a Heretic and never have to worry about that storage problem ever again.

I consider taking my phone to call it in, but an idea strikes me. I'm counting on Sheriff Forbes to be competent here. I pat Anna down until I find her phone. I raise my free hand and begin the chant to shove her body into the woods with my mind, then frown at such a wanton waste. Well, no reason to not drain her again afterward.

With a telekinetic shove, she rolls down the encampment and into the shrubbery. I keep pushing as I walk along, feeling my reservoir draining away with the effort. I must have moved her three hundred yards by the time I actually stopped, careful to avoid leaving any weird trails in the underbrush that a good cop might happen to notice. A brief but directed gust of wind blows leaves into the path that my footprints made.

Draining her a third time, I call 911 using Anna's phone and drop it on her chest, leaving the call open, and then trek back to the road.

The pointless death of such a nice woman. She possesses actual kindness in this universe, a rare quality that it seems only Bonnie possesses sometimes. I then head through the woods on the other side of the trees in the direction of town, keeping close to the road but deep enough to not be seen.

I find the welcome sign at around the same time the cops go speeding by. "Welcome to Mystic Falls."


	2. Pulling Weight

The Lockwood estate is not difficult to find. Southern plantation homes these days are not exactly a dime-a-dozen, and Google lists it as one of the top historical sites in all of Virginia. Can't imagine how annoying the lack of Internet would be if TVD took place in the early 90s or something.

And… there's the dude who would hit all the right buttons for high school me. Tyler Lockwood headed to school in that ridiculously expensive lifted truck, all dark hair and jaw and chisel. Woo.

Seeing him in person, I can't say that college me is all that different, truth be told.

He drives past without a second glance at my approach toward the gate. I half consider using my magic to sneak inside, but it'd be a waste, and the butler's already approaching.

"Excuse me, sir," he begins, "what brings you here?"

I don't remember a butler on the show, but this is one of those things that would be brushed aside unless the butler has any plot relevance at all. You can't forget that this is the show that didn't think showing Bonnie's father was all that important until the fourth season.

"I'm new in town, sir." I hold out a hand, and the man shakes it. "I heard about the Lockwood property and thought I could get a tour, if it's not too much trouble? Want to see all the sites!"

The butler nods. "Of course. I can have Mrs. Lockwood show you around. I'd bet all of us would be delighted to see one such as yourself taking an interest in the local history."

Suck it up, buddy. You just like to show off.

The little balding man ushers me inside and closes the gate behind him. I get my first look at the expansive property, and quite frankly, it's gorgeous. Local trees slowly turning in the fast-approaching Fall months, rolling hills disappearing into a rather large pond. It's beautiful, and I'm not a hugely outdoorsy person.

The mansion is even more extravagant, and an idle thought about a collegiate Tyler becoming a rich frat boy distracts me for a moment. The door opens at the butler's knock, and it shakes me from my embarrassing reverie.

"Hello?"

Pardon me for the pause, ma'am. Your son is fucking hot.

"Mrs. Lockwood, this is Mr…."

I hold out my hand, and she shakes it. "Hi, ma'am, I'm Logan. Just moved into town. I've heard a lot about your property, but it's a lot different when you actually see it in person." I get a good look at her and grin. "A lovely estate for such a lovely woman."

Rich people love compliments about their things, but aging women definitely love compliments about their looks. Based on her reaction, she is no exception.

"Oh? Well, aren't you sweet?!" A brilliant smile, as she beckons me inside and dismisses the butler, closing the door behind her. "What brings you here, Logan?"

Good lord, this place is swanky.

"Well, ma'am, I kind of wanted a tour of the place, but I was also curious if you could pull some weight for me."

The look on her face changes slightly, perhaps to concern? I'm not the best person at understanding people's faces when they have more subtle reactions.

"See, I don't know anyone in town. I'll be honest: I was kind of hoping that you might be willing to help a friendly face get a job. Somewhere popular with kids my age, maybe as a bartender, a waiter? A simple letter of recommendation from your husband or even yourself would go a long way toward helping me get established in the community."

Rich people love to propagate that sense of community. Makes 'em feel like they are in charge, establishes dominance when they host things like the countless festivals or events this damned town seems to have. Plus, I'm pretty sure they love it when people owe them favors, and this would be a huge one.

"Logan, I think we'd love to help."

I'm a little surprised it was that easy, because I distinctly remember that she was a bit of a bitch in the show, at least toward the beginning. Then again, I'm trying to play to her archetype, and it seems to be going swimmingly.

"Oh, thank you so much. You have no idea." She starts to lead me deeper into the home, mumbling about how long the house has been in her husband's family, but I'm no longer listening, just nodding occasionally. "Ma'am, sorry to interrupt, but can you show me where a bathroom is?"

"Oh, right." Her terse look on her face is clear irritation, but she points down the hall. "Second door on the left."

"Thanks, Mrs. Lockwood."

The second I open the door, I look around to be sure, and mutter the oft-practiced word. The cloaking spell, a specialty of the coven, activates, and I close the door with me still standing in the hallway, invisible to everyone.

I don't bother walking quietly. There should be no werewolves in the Lockwood family anywhere near the premises, as neither the mayor nor Tyler have activated their genes by this point, and Mason's in Florida; no super hearing to worry about. Even if some maid hears something odd, the chances of them being able to notice that it's me are so slim that it's inconsequential. Hell, if the Lockwoods didn't know about the supernatural, they'd probably assume that it was haunted and start making money giving tours like this all the damned time. They might still. Who knows?

I know what I'm looking for, a vague idea of the room where it can be found. Likely somewhere on the first floor, a parlor or a living room. If the mansion wasn't so stupidly huge, I might have found it much more quickly.

Sliding past a group of men and women setting some table in the dining room, I think I spot it. Situated behind a chair in the parlor, the corner of the terribly tacky rug stands out among the rest.

I situate myself in the corner and look around, but no one seems to be in sight. Even so, I shift the furniture around just so to obscure my operations for a few precious seconds in case someone comes in.

Lifting the corner of the rug, I fight the urge to shout eureka. Beneath the floorboards is a safe, and I lift off the wood paneling.

This is the most difficult part; opening it without attracting attention. I knew inherently that I could magically rip open the top; it'd probably be blamed on Tyler or something, or they'd connect it to the growing vampire problem. I needed to be absolutely sure that I could do this without getting caught.

Gemini witches and warlocks emphasize duplicity, which is why they are taught to cloak themselves at a very young age. But often, that does not extend beyond themselves. Some kind of sound cancelling field would be a great spell to know right now, just throw it up over the room to ensure no busybodies come in wondering what the hell's going on. I'll have to do without, and add developing one to the list.

Already, the magic within my body is beginning to wear from such a prolonged cloaking spell, and I really do not want to have to deplete any energy from the watch. But, this is so worth it if it works.

I touch my hand to the door of the safe and focus on the words of the spell, trying to utter the words as silently as I can. Telekinetically, I'm attempting to crush the hinges of the safe door, and it's taking a long time to develop the kind of pressure necessary.

Finally, they both warp at my mental manipulation and then break off, and I push inward on that side of the door. The door falls down, and then I yank upward with the spell. The door swings outward rather loudly; wincing, I know that I have precious seconds.

I flutter my hands through the items, careful to avoid fingerprints touching anything, but I already know that it's a failure.

The box isn't there. The box containing one of the single most important objects in the entire damned series is missing. I triple check once more, frustrated, and then quickly place everything back where I found it. Magically, I lower the door back in place, but I don't have time to fix the hinges with the know-how that I have now.

The room is in relative disarray, but it only takes a few seconds to urge everything back where it goes, using my powers to save time. No one notices, but a maid walks in afterward with a confused expression on her face. I glance downward to ensure the cloaking spell was still active and almost sigh in relief. Still gone from sight.

I slip back into the hallway, the maid fluffing the room behind me as though somewhere were amiss.

I find a good spot to ensure that no one is looking and drop the cloaking spell, entering the foyer where I left the nosy Founders' wife.

"Sorry about that. Where were we?"

While she urges me through the house, pausing every few feet to describe some tiny detail about a painting or a knickknack, I'm trying hard to come up with some reasoning for why the moonstone wouldn't be inside that safe. I had apparently wrongly assumed that he kept it there for safekeeping all the time. Tyler didn't find it until the beginning of the second season, after his father had died on Founders' Day. Did he carry it around for no reason while he was alive? Had he somehow not had it in his possession until, at the latest, the end of the second season?

Damn. What a shit-show this turned out to be.


	3. MacGuffin, Jr.

"Carol!"

A voice calls out from the front of the house and breaks her tirade about the family's multiple gazebos. The entire remainder of the Founders' Council stands near the backdoor. Oh no, oh no.

The mayor walks toward us, and my throat lurches. "Carol, who's this?"

I hold out a hand and remain calm. "Just call me Logan, sir." I fight tooth and nail to not look at Logan Fell standing with the Council; I shouldn't know that's his name, so no weird reactions. Not like sharing names is weird. "I noticed the Sheriff is here. Is something the matter?"

A uniformed Liz Forbes watches us carefully, a character who seems to live up to her reputation. Apparently, she is as competent as I remember, because she probably found Anna. Not sure how I feel about that, but my guess is that the girl might have already been staked.

Or I could be jumping to conclusions. Not a lot to go on.

"Logan, huh?"

Ignoring my question about the Sheriff? Smart.

Carol cuts in. "Richard, Logan here is just-" Oh god, that's my dad's name. My real dad. Weird flash of memory. "-admiring the scenery. He's from out of town."

If they only knew that some vampires can daywalk at this point, they'd probably find a random stranger showing up the day after a fatal car crash much more concerning. Don't worry, I come in peace. Even so, they seem to take my words at face value; all the other things that go bump in the night are unknown to them. Their overestimation in themselves and their import just because they know part of the secret is staggering.

"Seattle, Mr. Mayor." I try to give the briefest of explanations I can, sort of regurgitated from what I told Savannah. "Figured Mystic Falls was as good a place as any."

Richard smiles, and a detail from the show that I honestly forgot all about comes back to me. This guy beats his child, and while unconfirmed, I wouldn't be shocked if he beats his wife too.

I'm fairly certain that I know what I need to do about that.

"Let's go see what Sheriff Forbes wants, Richard. Logan, you'll see yourself out, yes?"

"Of course, ma'am. What about the-"

"Come back tomorrow, and I'll have the letter written for you. Excuse us."

The recommendation letter is important, but this? She just gave me all the time that I need to ensure this visit isn't a total loss.

I go and sit down on the patio, watching the Council head inside, and thinking through all the places the other (though considerably less important) MacGuffin could be. I already have the ability to unlock the tomb naturally, so there's no reason to not take the talisman while I'm here and return it to its proper place. Getting a rapport with the resident witch and her granddaughter is important for long-term planning, even if it's only for picking her brain and grimoire.

Once I think I've got the location in mind, somewhere upstairs I think, I smile. Honestly, I was so focused on the moonstone that I forgot about the other one.

I cloak myself once more, rapidly depleting the reservoir with every second I spend invisible and walk swiftly toward the stairs, bounding upward two at a time. If anyone noticed the sound, they don't react to it. Not that they could do anything if they heard anyway.

The display that I'm looking for is… there. Within moments, I've got the Bennet Talisman on lockdown. An amber gem encrusted in silver on a chain, it reminds me of my plans to research precious metals.

I'm tempted to drain it, but unlike the moonstone, this one has value to Bonnie and to her grandmother. I slide it into my pocket, not stupid enough to attempt to wear it when Emily Bennet possessed Bonnie later because of it, and head downstairs, briefly passing a sitting room. I'm halfway toward the front door, but I hear familiar voices from behind a sitting room under the stairs. They are muffled until I touch my ear to the door ever so gently.

"… had to have caused the wreck. It's-"

"Liz, that sounds a little too-"

"Coincidental? I know, Richard, but that's why. If there's anything that we've learned, it's that nothing in this town is coincidental."

A wiser statement has never been said, Liz.

"It doesn't fit their MO. No drained blood; in fact, the bloodier the crash was, the more likely it is that it wasn't a vampire."

Carol's not wrong in her thinking given what they know, but I think that proves that they don't have Anna in custody after all. Or else they'd have been talking about how they staked her already.

I back away from the door, verify that no one's watching, and drop the spell, grateful that I still have a little less than half of my total without having to resort to the watch. While it was not as successful as it could have been, I've still got my hands on a MacGuffin. Right now, I'm in total control of the plot for most of season one, and the minute I find that moonstone, I can control the future of the most dangerous man in the world.

.:O:.

I'm unsurprised that Google isn't up to date, but it's a little frustrating to have to flip through the hotel's Yellow Pages. Even so, I found the address nearly as easily as I did the Lockwood estate.

Before heading around the corner, I pace for several feet, not sure how I'm actually going to go about this. There's a ton of different ways I can handle it, but honesty about metaknowledge is not the best policy. But would Sheila know that I'm lying somehow? Megan's never able to tell, but different witches have different foci. Maybe this is something she can do?

Fuck. I need to think on my feet.

I walk with purpose up to her door and knock several times, a flashback to my time as a resident advisor running through my brain. Such a long time ago, in a previous life. My memories of that are hazier than I'd like.

After a couple minutes, the door opens, but she doesn't open it fully. "Can I help you?"

I nod. "I think you can." I reach into the pocket of my jacket and she flinches at the motion, maybe expecting a gun. She's older, so I could see that being a worry, but not for me. When the talisman fully extends, dangling in the wind, her eyes follow it closely. "My name is Logan Masters, and if I'm right, then big things are on the horizon."

"Masters?" she asks, voice a little shaky. When she hiccups, head lulling slightly, I'm ninety-nine percent sure that she's currently drunk. And freaked out. "Of the Gemini Coven?"

I smile. "Yes. But enough about me." I wave the amulet. "You need to prepare her."


	4. Small Victories

The woman has not said much since I arrived, the two of us sitting in her living room. She's currently holding a too-full glass of wine, and I'm not one to stop her. The talisman lays flat against the coffee table, gem pointed toward her, as though it were trying to reach her.

She downs half of the glass in one long draw, and any confidence I had that this would be a cogent conversation fell down the drain. Damn it.

"What do you want with my granddaughter?" Despite the lull in her speech, it's terse and to the point.

"Nothing more than what you want, as far as I'm concerned. She's not accepting her gift, is she?"

The woman pauses, hesitates, but eventually, the alcohol decides for her. "Her father wanted nothing to do with our side of the family, and despite all the signs pointing to her abilities manifesting, she's just not getting it."

Ah. So let me fill in the blanks here. Rudy, Bonnie's father, noticed Sheila's alcoholism and convinced Bonnie that everything the woman said was a drunken delusion.

"Do you want a glass of water?" I ask pointedly, and she just looks at me for a moment.

"Are you insulting-" hic! "-the choices of an old woman, son?" Such a question would sound much more tenacious if everything she said were with sobriety.

"Of course not. I'm far too liberal for that. What you do with your body is your business." Honestly, that's not exactly my true opinion; if someone is hurting the relationships of the people around them, then they have an obligation to change their habits. But the damage is already done at a woman her age, so it might be too late to do anything worthwhile. "But I think Bonnie might not share my opinion. She's… not listening to what you're saying, Sheila. Not learning from you like she could be." And if you watch your alcohol, your body will be strong enough to not die attempting a simple spell like opening the damned tomb. "She probably thinks you're delusional."

She hesitates, staring at the glass and then at me before she downs the rest of the glass, setting it down on the table. Her eyes flicker toward the rest of the bottle, but eventually, she turns back toward me.

"How do you know so much anyway?"

Ooh, pointed question. I don't let it phase me. "I don't know if you ever met my mom in your dealings with the Coven, but Megan's something of a seer, and I think the talent for it passed down to me. I have… dreams of the future, of this town and the people that live here, and one of the most important figures in them is your granddaughter Bonnie." She isn't skeptical, per se, but I'm not sure if she's sober enough to try to pass an insight check. "Do you want specifics?"

She nods once, head slowly tipping back as she clenches her fists.

"Well, I don't know much about this talisman," I point to it, "but I can tell that it's intimately connected to your family, to a legacy of vampires, and to Bonnie. I think it will serve your granddaughter well to possess it in the near future, to act as a focus for her magic."

Something comes to mind, and I realize that the amulet might not actually possess any magic of its own right now, at least until the comet passes in the next couple days. I'm not sure if Sheila knows this or not.

"It belonged to one of my ancestors, acted as her personal talisman," the woman begins after a short moment. She opens her mouth to continue and then stops, clearly not wanting to speak further. Good instincts, though I already know about it being a key to the tomb.

I don't wait for an invitation to continue. "There are already vampires in town again after all this time-"

"Doesn't take a genius to figure that out." The woman snorts. "Animal attacks."

"Yes. I'm not sure how many there are in Mystic Falls right now, but there are two of them, a pair of brothers. They are intimately connected to Bonnie's future."

The woman's eyes widened. "What do you mean? Is my Bonnie in d-" hic! "danger?"

Loaded question. "Yes, but not really from them. Assuming that what I've seen is correct, I think they will eventually become allies against greater threats to the town at large."

"Allies?" She laughs. "My granddaughter will not ally herself with vampires. Those abominations only bring chaos into the world, and Bonnie will not be any part of it."

I don't know how to react to that. The witches' hatred of vampires has always bugged me. Understandable, yes, but not all vampires are the same. Hell, even someone like Elijah proves that not all vampires are the same from their very conception. Not that Elijah is exactly a paragon of morality a lot of the time, but I digress. If you twist the perspective a bit, I'd argue Mikael might be the witches' favorite, given his diet.

"Good. Then help me to make sure that Bonnie has the tools and the power that she needs to protect herself in the future, should such a future come to pass." I stand up and head to the kitchen, ignoring her protests. I pilfer through her cabinets, taking time to appreciate her spice rack, before finding a glass.

I follow back to the living room with a glass of water in tow, sitting it down on the table in front of her.

"I told Joshua a long time ago that my affairs with the Gemini Coven are done." She doesn't make a grab for the water, but she doesn't try to pour herself another drink either. I consider it a win.

"This isn't for the Coven. I'm no longer linked to them in any way." Never really intended to ally myself with them long term anyway. They didn't care for my kind any more than witches as a whole care for vampires. "My dreams have brought me here, to Mystic Falls, because somehow, this place is important. I want to be of use, to prevent tragedies from occurring." I point to the talisman. "Already, by bringing this to you, I'm certain that it can't be used for any nefarious ends. It's Bonnie's birthright; it belongs with her."

Damon will be pissed that it's not where he left it, but who cares what Damon thinks?

Reflexively, I knock twice on the wood of her end table.


	5. Little Black Book

The hotel room is not exactly welcoming when I finally get back to it that night. I don't have enough money saved to buy an apartment, which is the practical reason why getting the job at the Mystic Grill is important. I'm not sure I could survive the paranoia if I had to constantly worry that some vampire was going to barge into the hotel room. No threshold. When I finally get settled, I consider the risks of a rampaging plot running into me and realize that it's not a good idea to leave the room unprotected.

I reach into my backpack and pull out the weirdly large bag of salt. It does not take long to line it around the room once and then again around my bed, two layers just in case. I'm not convinced that I can hold off anyone who really wants to kill me on my own, but this will keep any unwanted anythings away from me. This is a stop-gap measure until I can devise that adaptable barrier ward.

I pull the thin leatherbound notebook from the bag as well, the lock latched shut with thin magic. Much like the salt boundary spell, if anyone really wanted to get into the diary, they could, but deterrents are just that. Deterrents. Keeping your budding personal grimoire / journal away from prying eyes when you're growing up is important.

I flip past the first section of pages; my endless trains of thought about what it means to have been reincarnated in a fictional world are of no use here. Eventually, my need to begin crafting spells took over that philosophical debate, and I accepted my fate. The projects section has several pages of adaptations from the show, including lists of ingredients and even some important words, things that my training with the coven did not teach me. My favorite spell that I've figured out totally on my own and mastered is one that would make even Kol Mikaelson infinitely jealous, but there's not been much use for it yet.

Anyway, that barrier spell is not working as intended, if at all. There's a bracelet somewhere in my bag that will work, disguised as a simple beaded thing. I'm not a jewelry person, though I wore my high school class ring for years. On the page, I can see my reasoning fairly clearly: devise some kind of conduit clasping mechanism to create the charge, each of the beads containing different elemental symbolism to channel properly. In theory, the bracelet should work so that I only have to spell the object once, and it will work indefinitely without having to drain from my own reserves, able to shut on and off at will every time I open or close the clasp. Things never work the way they seem, of course, which is why it's not working so far. If I can manage it, it will work much better than a salt barrier, potentially in any room. After an hour of doddling and brainstorming, I've come to the conclusion that the material of the clasp needs to be optimal for spelling, and that the elements need to be better represented and encased. Unfortunately, finding something of this shape and in the right material is going to be next to impossible, but having a small layer of defense every time I'm inside a room? Yes, please.

Frustrated, I lean down on the bed and fiddle with my cell phone. Two missed calls. I ignore the first for good reason and call back the second.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mom."

I can practically touch Megan's motherly concern, a separate entity from her voice altogether. She's kind and compassionate, if a little absent when she gets into her depressive episodes.

"Where are you? Are you safe? Joshua's on a-"

"Please don't end that sentence with 'man-hunt.' I really, really can't handle hearing that right now."

She sighs with irritation. "Logan, this is serious."

"I know." It's not every day you turn your back on those who care about you the most. "I finally got out of there, Mom, and I don't want to look back. The others, they don't understand. Joshua thinks I'm his son made over, and everyone's too paranoid to not listen to him." He's the leader too, obviously, but being afraid of another Kai Parker is not exactly irrational. All it would take is anyone making the comparison to get them to be afraid of me.

She seems exasperated. I'm trying hard to look at her point of view, but I can't help but be selfish.

"My being there just adds needless conflict to an already splintered coven. I'm on my own path now, and I want you and the others to accept that."

I don't want to hurt Megan, honestly. She thinks of me as her son, and even if I don't really consider her my real mom, she still acted in that role for a long time.

"I know that, honey. But it's… not that easy. A lot of people are angry, and they want someone to blame."

I frown, sitting down on the bed and pulling off my shoes. "Look, can you try to convince Joshua that it's okay? I've already removed ties to the coven, and once I figure out how to remove myself from the channeling link, then I'll be out of your hair permanently." Only way I know how to do that is to turn or die, and I don't want either option yet. "They clearly don't want me around, so let them vent until they get over it. You don't need me around to keep the coven afloat."

"But your-"

"Mom. Please. Just stop begging." I'm pleading at this point, metaphorically on my knees. "You once told me, a couple years back, about one your deepest regrets. Do you remember what that was?"

Megan lets out an exasperated breath escape. "Of course I do."

"Right. I'm doing what you failed to do. I can say with total conviction that I'm following my dreams, and that it's not some bullshit afterschool special." She laughs, a calming sound that makes me feel a little less lonely on the other side of the country. In reference to that, it almost hurts that I'm lying to her. "The ancestors have led me to this place for a reason, and I need to see what I can do to help."

"But they miss you. I miss you." She sounds so broken. Maybe I should make the other call?

"It's not like you'll never see me again." Shit. I almost regret saying it. I think I just tempted the plot. God damn it. "By that I mean that I'm sure you can visit, or maybe I can visit when things cool off, when the others realize me leaving gets me out of their hair. I mean, money might get in the way," hopefully not after tomorrow, "but that's why I should have a job tomorrow afternoon if things go right."

"That's wonderful, sweetheart. I look forward to that. Maybe for Thanksgiving?"

I think about the timeline. Did anything even happen on Thanksgiving in the first season? I'm not sure, but probably nothing important that would absolutely have to happen. The timetable might work for a visit from her.

I pause. "He's not actually trying to find me, is he?"

"No, I don't think so. He's too pre-occupied with empty-nest syndrome to do anything with his frustration." Right. The Parker twins left for college around the same time I left. I'm surprised there's any fuss from him at all about me.

"Anyway, I need to go. A little book's calling my name."

"Thank you for calling me back, son."

Talking with her has become more and more a chore as time goes on, as tensions mounted when I started getting old enough for people to hate me for my gift. Or lack of one, I guess. Whatever. Suppose it doesn't make any sense to blame a wandering three year old for draining someone's weird aphrodisiac spells, does it? I laugh heartily to myself, a little sad that no one is here to share the story with.


	6. In My Bones

There we go. The hospital's log is clear. She's here.

I'm upset, to say the least, that my memory is so shoddy. I've never had trouble with dates, much like phone numbers; for whatever reason, it clicks. But usually, the show was not explicit about the timeline at all. Because of that, I wasn't able to help Vicki Donovan from her first encounter with Damon.

Would not have even remembered at all had Carol not talked to someone, likely Liz, on the phone about the incident. Had I not gone to retrieve the recommendation letter this morning, I probably would not have been able to do anything.

I cloak briefly, edging closer and closer to empty with every corner of the building. I'm going to need to refill.

No one's in the room, which is… weird, to say the least. I had expected to be able to ogle Matt for a few, but my hopes are sadly dashed.

From what I remember, Tyler tried to force himself on her, Jeremy intervened, and then she ran off, only for Damon to attack her, without compulsion. Stefan, if he hasn't shown up already, is likely on his way to attempt, and fail, to compel her memory away.

I close the door and drop the cloak, wanting to give myself as much time as possible unseen. I spell it shut, strongly enough to hold any random nurse away, and then step around the bed.

Grimoire out, I push to the right page and smile, glad to have gleaned this from one of the Tulle family grimoires. My supply of vervain is not exactly large, but this is a good enough reason. Keeping her safe is a litmus test for keeping more important people alive, and if I can handle that, then someone like Matt won't have to go through the pain of such loss.

I drop roughly half of the vervain into my well-used mixing bowl, grinding it into a powder. I flick my lighter until it produces a flame, holding it over the bowl. "Phesmatos extandas lomiano."

As the magic activates, the flame jumps from the lighter into the bowl, burning the powder completely for three seconds. The smoke is weirdly pleasant. Once the flame recedes, I empty the contents of the bowl into my hand and then sprinkle it gently onto what I can see of Vicki's skin, ending with the last of it on her forehead.

The dust shines like glitter before vanishing under her skin, imperceptible and non-obstructive particles in between skin cells. I'm satisfied that it will have the effect that I want: her skin will repel vampires for at least the next few days, until the vervain dust leaves her system. Should be plenty of time to keep someone like Damon away.

I am in the middle of putting my stuff away when I notice the syringes of Anna's blood. Glancing at Vicki's condition, I could speed up her recovery quite a bit, so why not? Carefully, I reach toward her IV drip and find a suitable place, releasing a small quantity within the tubing.

"Wha… What are you doing?"

Vicki jerks back at the sight of me, extreme fear in her eyes. I pull the syringe out, recapping it, wild eyes unfocused as she stares. There should be enough to help her recover, and if not, then perhaps the quantity counts.

"Helping you get better," I start, not sure what else to say. This situation gets worse and worse every second, especially since I want to work at the same damn restaurant as her. If she recognizes me later and things happen, then my cover is blown.

I hold out a hand and mutter, "Phasmatos somnus." Nearly instantly, the magic takes hold, and she falls asleep once more. Hope she thinks I'm just some weird drugged hallucination. She's used to those with her reputation, right?

Someone pulls at the doorknob and fails to open the door. I silently curse and shove everything into my backpack roughly. I'll sort the details later.

Cloaking with the last of the energy within my body, someone is furiously fiddling with the lock. I drain the spell and step out of the way as Matt and a nurse suddenly burst into the room.

I wish I had time to enjoy the view, but I hurry out the door past them, knowing there'll be plenty of time to look at Zach Roerig's ridiculously perfect face later.

I'm halfway toward the front entrance when I see one of my favorite characters stepping out of an office. The brunette's not wearing the white coat, instead following some other doctor around. Maybe she's shadowing? Or maybe this is her visitation, or residency or whatever it's called? Considering how young she is, anyway, she may not actually be a doctor just yet. More unclear information from the timeline, I'm afraid.

I wave at her as I pass, and Meredith barely glances up from her clipboard in time to see me. She weakly waves back as I continue around the corner, likely confused. I'd approach her, but I'm not sure I'd know what to say.

She's where I got the idea to steal vampire blood wherever possible, so maybe we could set up some kind of supply train going. Never a bad thing to make connections, and having an insider at the hospital will be very helpful in my long-term plans. She can use the blood to heal those who have no chance at life otherwise, and I can get my hands on more vampire blood. Win-win.

Mystic Falls General is within walking distance of the town square, and the small town feel reminds me of campus life. You could pretty much get anywhere on foot if you cared enough to walk, and I'm pretty sure I want to find an apartment somewhere in town when I have the funds. It'll be easier to do that than try to buy a car and live a couple miles out.

The town has teams preparing the square for the comet festival that will take place tomorrow. Once it comes, the talisman will activate, and then Bonnie's lessons will hopefully begin very soon. Ideally, I'd like to help prep her for the bigger and badder things that go bump in the night. Two witches are better than one, after all, and she's got a stable power supply.

I head into the Grill, grinning at the ambiance of the early-morning crowd. It's such a frequently used set piece that it feels much more connected to the show than anything else I've come across. Growing up in Seattle, I didn't regularly see any characters or ever see any places that looked remotely familiar, so it didn't always feel like the world of the supernatural. But now, here? I feel it in my bones.


	7. Oh God

I've never worked in a restaurant before, in either life. I have done retail, however, and it's about as frustrating as you've heard.

Familiarizing myself with the menu, with the layout of tables, I've managed to get some decent tips amongst the muck. One particular table annoyed the fuck out of me: bunch of dumb preteens didn't tip at all. But I smile, and I turn my customer voice on, the one that makes me sound like a masculine woman on the phone. If I had a dime for the number of times I've heard "Do you want fries with that, ma'am?", I wouldn't need this job at the Mystic Grill.

The blonde manager, Rhonda, hasn't stopped giving me funny looks all day, watching me like a hawk. Her expression when I handed her the sealed letter from the desk of the mayor himself was priceless. Whatever was in the letter, as well as my interview, must have convinced her that I'm worth hiring. I need to push the favor for the Lockwoods up to the top of my projects, I think.

My first encounter with one of the – gang? Team? Group? What do I want to call them? Ooh! – squad happens at around five that afternoon. In walk the neurotic blonde and the girl most likely to become the most powerful witch on the east coast. My two favorite characters in the whole damn show sit down at one of my tables.

My shame knows no bounds; I almost squeed.

Making my way over slowly to give myself time to think – social anxiety at its finest – Caroline already has locked eyes with me. "Hello. What can I get you two ladies?"

"I'll have my usual." She says it with such precision and finality that I'm a little bit stunned. The girl has issues with control, but does she really expect someone who's clearly brand new to know what her order is in advance?

I have a new appreciation for the Mystic Grill, I think, if they can memorize orders like that and attract regulars.

"Uh."

Bonnie stares at her friend with an irritated look. "Sorry for that. You're clearly new here." Caroline suddenly jumps and glares at Bonnie.

"I'm sorry," she takes a look at my name tag, "Logan. The House salad with a drizzle of light Italian dressing, no croutons, extra cheese, no ham, and a medium Diet Coke." She speaks fast, and it takes a long moment to get everything down.

Bonnie completes her order, thankfully from the menu directly. No weird tastes.

"Our friend Elena is on her way, she's a little late, but she'll have her usual." When I stare at Caroline with utter incomprehension that she made the same mistake again, she frowns. "Right. Sorry. It's been a long day. She'll have..." Elena's order is even less food than Caroline's, and I'm wondering if there's some reason for that.

I reach out to take the menus from Bonnie and deliberately brush my finger against hers.

Her eyes widen in surprise, a little gasp escaping her lips Caroline raises an eyebrow; she's always been very intuitive, so maybe she's noticing more about Bonnie's slowly-developing magic than she let on?

"Sorry, didn't mean to shock you," I mutter. "Let me get your orders ready, and your drinks out. Let me know if you need anything else." I turn quickly after a smile, wondering just what exactly the girl saw or felt.

Witches are naturally more intuitive than others, able to glimpse or sense things about others from mere touch and possibly even sight. Psychometry is a skill that Bonnie never really harnessed, but it's one of the things that Megan practiced early and crafted into a skill to combine with her occasional flashes of the future. Seers are rare, and seers that can control their craft to any meaningful degree are rarer. Given my own limitations, harnessing that psychometric skill is something that doesn't seem immediately useful for me. I don't want to have to flood my system with magic from stored items every time I shake someone's hand or touch an object, now do I?

When I bring back the drinks, Elena is already seated, and wow. The Doppelganger. Her entire existence depends on some asshole trying to make himself immortal, and the spirits getting in the way to make it balanced. The blood coursing through her veins is potent, a binding agent of the greatest kind, and damn.

I'm careful to hear their conversation as best I can. Vamp hearing would be great in situations like these.

"… like something horrible." She stares intently. "It's… like what Grams said. The comet-"

"Brings impending doom." Caroline rolls her eyes and glances toward me as I approach, then shuffles obviously. Makes me think they were talking about me, which may or may not be a good thing.

"Here you go." As I drop the drinks down, I look toward Elena and attempt to ignore the look on Bonnie's face. Clearly, I've upset her. Going be interesting when I get to sit down with her and Sheila soon. "Already took care of your order, ma'am. Your friends were kind enough to order for you."

"Thanks." Her voice and the look on her face are a mask to hide her grief. I remember that face well; I used to wear it all the time after my actual aunt died. For what it's worth, she does seem to be happy; she just met Stefan, so it's helping. But the wound is still there under the surface, and no boy'll change that for her.

"I couldn't help but overhear," I state. "Were the three of you talking about the comet?"

Bonnie immediately perks up, training her attention on me earnestly. "What do you know about it?" Her lip quivers with worry.

I must have really freaked her out.

"Not much. My family back home always talks about celestial events like this, about how important they are, about how they might be omens. Never really put much stock into it. Magic doesn't really make much sense to me." All three of them are looking at me now with nearly the same expression as Bonnie. "Anyway, gotta get back to work. But if you want to talk to me about it," I glance toward Bonnie pointedly, "I get off at eleven."

Caroline's eyebrow twitches, and the tense moment is broken as Elena smirks at Bonnie.

Fuck.

Did I just… hit on her?

Oh god.


	8. Misunderstandings

"All right, I'm out," I call out to Rhonda, finishing the clock-out procedure. "Thank you so much for an awesome first day."

The blonde manager nods. "It was a pleasure to have you. See you on your next shift." She has a slight nervous tick that I didn't notice until I heard Ben, the bartender, told me about it an hour ago. Every few seconds, she smacks her lips. It varies with intensity, but once I noticed it, I definitely cannot unsee it.

As I approach the front door, ready to change out of work clothes and put my feet up at home, someone's waiting outside.

"Hello," I call out, closing the door behind me. "Can't say I expected you to come back here just for me."

"Logan, right?" Bonnie asks, confirming it with a glance toward the nametag on my shirt. "I'm Bonnie, but you know that already." Her accusatory tone is a little off-putting, and she notices my discomfort. "Had an interesting conversation with my grandmother about you. Why did you pretend like you didn't know who I am?"

Ah. I… guess that does look fishy.

"Sorry, wasn't my intention to creep you out," I mutter, preparing to repeat the backstory. "I sometimes get these dreams, um, that predict the future. Premonitions, I suppose. Nothing more than glimpses, like a static video screen. But they led me to you and your grandmother." She looks skeptical and probably more disturbed. "All that stuff that your grandmother has been saying for months is true, Bonnie. You're a witch, and so am I." Never cared about the distinction between witch and warlock or whatever gender term the Martins preferred on the show. I'm a witch, she's a witch, everybody's a wtich!

I make sure no one's watching but her and drain a small amount of magic from the wristwatch. I point my hand toward the bench near the front door to the Grill. "Motus."

The bench shakes slightly and then slowly slides across the ground a few inches. The legs of the bench drag a chalky line in the concrete. The movement's not as impressive as I would have liked, admittedly, with so little energy siphoned, but Bonnie merely gapes.

"I would have opened with this earlier, when I first spoke to you, but I was at work, and you were with your friends. Didn't want to expose magic, you know?" I smile in a lame effort to alleviate tension, but she is clearly shell-shocked.

"Um, I don't know what to say to that. This is… a lot to take in." She hesitates. "My grandmother told me that you approached her about all this, about me, the other day. You want to train me?"

"To help prepare you for the future, yes." I'd like to keep that vague, but-

"What future?" she asks. "I don't understand."

I shake my head, a little ashamed. I'm jumping to conclusions, assuming that people are in the know. Seeing her now, it's difficult to not see her and remember the mature Bonnie after the prison world fiasco.

"Clearly, this should have been done differently. My coven introduces some concepts of magic before anyone even starts kindergarten; I shouldn't have assumed that you would know what to say, what to think. Especially after months of assuming it was nothing but a myth."

She frowns, still staring at the bench. "My grandmother never bothered to show me anything like that, so of course I didn't believe her."

My sympathy for her situation is honest and real. If there's one thing that's great about the Gemini Coven, it's their sense of self-importance. Tends to happen when you're around for thousands of years. Arrogance, tradition. No family in the Coven would ever let their children grow up without learning magic from an early age. They'd never stoop so low as to ignore Bonnie's abilities just because some human man doesn't like magic.

"Magic requires focus, control, and physicality. I only just met Sheila, but considering her age and her alcohol issues, I think she generally avoids magic these days. She's not one to show off either."

Bonnie paces back and forth in front of the Grill, not saying anything for a few moments.

"This must be tough for you, but Bonnie, I promise you this. Magic is an extremely useful tool, something that is part of who you are. Even if you don't know it yet." I take a second and smile. "But that's where I come in. Tomorrow night, after the comet festival, Sheila is arranging a meeting between the three of us. We're going to go over a few things, maybe start some basic lessons."

She fixates on me for several moments. "She mentioned it, but I already had plans to spend time with Dad."

I give her a knowing look. "Come on now. Don't let him hold you back from reaching your destiny. This is your birthright, and you're going to need it."

She pauses for several seconds and then finally nods. "I'll see what I can do." There's an awkward moment where she looks at me oddly. "There's something else. Just want to be clear: this isn't some kind of weird pick-up scheme, is it? My friends-"

"No!" I object quickly. She frowns, and it was perhaps too quickly. "Not that you aren't gorgeous, Bonnie, because you are. I just don't play for your team."

She grins. "Ah. I'm a little relieved, honestly. Caroline and Elena wouldn't stop teasing me for half an hour."

My blush betrays my embarassment. "Right. Sometimes, my words fumble, and I tend to ramble. Misunderstandings are annoying, you know? I'm flattered to be the topic of conversation though."

She looks at her phone. "It's getting late, school in the morning. I'll see you tomorrow night?"

"I don't work tomorrow, but I'll be at the festival. Wouldn't miss a celestial event like that."

She nods, something clicking in her head. "So what Grams said about the comet. Is it really that apocalyptic?"

If you consider unleashing twenty-eight possessive vampires to be apocalyptic, then yes. "Future's vague, Bonnie. Could be a sign of good luck this time around. Events like that-" I cut myself off. "Sorry, let me spare you that lecture before I ramble and bore you. You need to know the basics first before you learn anything that complex. So, until tomorrow."

She nods, cracking a smile. "I'm excited."

"You should be. This world's full of wonders, and as a witch, you're in the unique position to discover them."

She waves me off and heads around the corner, getting into her car. My paranoia forces me to watch her drive off, afraid at any moment that someone like Damon, or Damon himself, might attack. Once I see her disappear around the corner in her car, I feel safe.

Now, I just need to get home and start planning tomorrow's events. There's several things I need to do and only a limited time to get everything done before the festival.


	9. Success

Getting a job is mostly for appearances, a foothold into small town life, and a gateway into the drama on my own terms. The money flow is nice, but now that I'm finally here, I can take a few more risks and implicate the right people.

There's a town named Goodview not far from Mystic Falls, maybe fifteen minutes away. It's much smaller by comparison; might not even have ten percent the population.

I woke myself up early this morning in order to do just this, and it will work out just fine. Grabbing my backpack, I carefully step over the boundary spell linked to the salt line, and close the door behind me in such a way to not break it. Can never be too careful.

The bus station is not far, maybe two blocks over, so I make the trek, carefully watching my surroundings. It doesn't feel quite as dangerous in the daytime, but Stefan, Damon, and Anna are all out there, and I've already pissed off one of them. In a way, I'm almost glad that I've already made an enemy. It was bound to happen eventually, so getting that out of the way removes some of the anticipatory tension.

I'm tempted to cloak when I get onto the bus, just to avoid leaving a paper trail where I'm going in case someone can connect the dots, but getting the bus to stop in the right place might be complicated. Don't want to end up all the way in Lynchburg because I can't reasonably signal for my stop.

I do it legally, paying for entry, and drop into a seat near the back. I try not to make eye contact with any commuters during the ride and step off at the right time. I want to disappear, and I think I succeeded without having to cloak.

There's exactly one street in Goodview that matters, and the bus stop is at the end of it. I've already done some scouting, so I know exactly where I need to go. A few doors down, and I enter the coffee shop.

It's nothing like the giant Starbucks at UA, not that I expected it to be. I just frequented that place so often to write in my first life that I judge the atmosphere of every coffee shop I enter based on it. The barista is a balding, portly aging man, so there's zero chance of a romantic tryst like in all those coffee shop AUs I used to read. There are three tables squat against the window, and two of them are occupied. I throw my bag down to claim the open table while I order.

Drink in hand, I fiddle with my bag, and while no one can see, I slip the container into my sleeve and under my bracelet, holding it in place. Making sure that it stays hidden no matter how I twist my wrist, I put the drink down, bag around one shoulder, and head back to the counter.

"Where's the bathroom, sir? Can you watch my drink while I'm gone?"

The barista grunts and jerks his head that way, and I weave around the corner. The moment that I open the door, I mutter under my breath and cloak, and then lock the door from the outside with a twinge of silent telekinesis.

I head for the front door of the shop and burst through it, hearing some complaint about the wind rattling the old door as I leave. Grinning, I turn down the sidewalk and head down quickly, knowing that I don't want to have to cloak myself forever. The limit for how long in one use of the spell is roughly seven minutes, but I have enough for another couple uses if necessary. Too long in the bathroom, so to speak, and it looks suspicious.

The bank looks like the only franchised location in this tiny hovel of a town, but I've never heard of the company. But it is helpfully busy, so I only have to wait a moment for someone to open the door before I follow closely behind.

The benefit to the Gemini cloaking spell is that it doesn't really have any drawbacks. I can't be electronically captured, I can't make any noise unless I absolutely want someone to hear, and as far as I can tell, I don't have a sense of smell. I can, however, touch objects, so I'm careful not to run into or bump anyone.

Well, until I need a distraction.

There's a muscular man, a redneck who looks like he might be involved in construction if his clothes tell anything about him, standing in the front of the line. And behind him is pretty much the kind of teenager you'd immediately label as "hot, rich douchbag" in your head right behind him.

The lady behind the counter looks like she needs none of what I'm about to do, but it can't be helped.

I lightly shove the douchbag into the other man with a tiny bit of magic and step back to watch the chaos unfold. The kid shoulder-checks the older man harder than I really intended, and suddenly, the two are screaming obscenities at each other.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

"I-" the hot teenager flips back to stare my general direction, utterly confused. "I didn't mean to!"

I take the momentary distraction to step behind the counter and head toward the stupidly open vault, giggling softly to myself.

"Grunberg! Get off your ass and stop this."

"Oh… Uh, right."

"I'll beat the hell of you, you stupid snot-nosed brat!"

"It was an accident!"

"Oh, sure." I can practically feel the spittle fly into my face from all the way in the vault. "It's always an accident for you stupid kids. Where's your daddy, boy? Bet you wish he was here to fix your mess for you. That's how all you millennials are."

Turning away from the argument, I smile at the huge table of open funds just lying there for me to take. Apparently, someone was counting this, but they are now in the doorway of the vault, watching the shouting match probably descend into a fight.

Money, money, money. I pack as much much as I can carry into my pockets and disguise under my thick jacket, into the waistband of my clothes, and into my bag. Due to how the spell works, the camera will only notice the money disappearing the moment that I touch them, so there won't be any odd floating packets of dollar bills. Although honestly, that would only help the mystery I'm trying to build with this bank robbery.

When I'm sure that I've got about as much as I can grab, I take the blood bag from my sleeve and lay it flat on the ground, still touching it the whole time. Carefully opening it, I let some of it spill out, and then let go.

Strolling out of the vault and past the still heated argument, I wait in the lobby for the security guard to force the two of them out, and slide past them, back toward the coffee shop.

I wait for someone to enter and then slip toward the bathroom, unlocking the door with magic and sliding back inside. I had stayed cloaked the entire time, without having to reapply. I consider that a success as I look toward my watch.

Hand on my chest, it takes moments to siphon the leftover magic from the last thirty seconds of the spell, and another chant places it directly within the watch. I might have to start siphoning the absolute last resort spelled items buried in the bottom of the backpack, if I don't find a steady supply of magic soon.

I shove the rest of the money into the bag and magically seal it shut with the absolute last of the power stored within my body, and then flush the toilet and clean my hands. Grinning at my reflection, I unlock the door and then settle down to enjoy my coffee.

I sip it and frown; might be the worst cup ever. I grit my teeth and continue drinking, studying the faces of the people inside. No one seems to think me suspicious, and that seems to be a success. I hope that I got enough money that I don't have to worry about performing anything like this again for the next few weeks. Can't wait to count it all and see just how rich I actually am.


	10. Boost

The sun finally sets and the festival begins. It feels like the entire town is here in the square, and it reminds me quite a bit of the football crowd at my first high school. Everyone is dressed for the somewhat chilly fall air, holding candles in their hands as they wait for the celestial event to begin.

If I don't intervene, in a few months, tomb vampires and the Founders' Council will descend upon a gathering not unlike this one. If I could count on plot armor actually being a thing in real life, I could probably just let things play out the way they did and focus on side projects for the real threat. Admittedly, basically everyone who matters walked out of that one unscathed.

But I don't want to do that. I want to be involved in the greater world around me. I want to oppose the Originals. I want to stop Silas and the Travelers and whatever else will pass through town. The tomb vampires are just practice for the real deal.

"Logan, right?"

The sound of the voice is all too familiar, and I look up to see Elena approaching. Glancing over her shoulder, Stefan is not far away, holding a candle and pretending to look busy. He makes eye contact and looks away.

I nod. "Yeah, that's me. You're Bonnie's friend."

She smiles her million dollar smile. "Elena Gilbert." Holding out her hand, I take it and have to force myself to let go quickly. The burning temptation to absorb the doppelganger magic stirring within her comes to mind and disappears in a fraction of a second.

"Right. You enjoying the festival so far?"

"Yes. It's always fun to see everyone together." She pauses, unsure of where to take the conversation, but eventually settles, laaning in and bringing her voice down. "Listen, Bonnie-"

"You know the secret, don't you?" Blunt and straight to the point. Just the way that it's supposed to be. "About the Hog and the Warts?"

She guffaws. "Wait, Hogwarts is a thing?" Ah, it's fun to troll. She's so in over her head.

"Oh god no." I giggle. "Of course not. That's a children's story."

She recovers. "Oh, okay. Anyway, so all that is real? You're not trying to prank Bonnie or something like that, are you?"

I point to her candle, and when she realizes what I'm doing, the flame sputters out. She looks up in awe, and I relight the candle with another pulse of magic. Not difficult with my reserves at all.

I glance to where Stefan was, but the vampire is no longer there. Hmm.

"That's amazing. So Bonnie can do that too?"

"If she learns how, yes. This is nothing though, just the tip of the iceberg. We're meeting with Bonnie's grandmother at her place tonight to go over some basics, do a few spells, practice. Give her a real mentorship."

Elena nods. "That sounds great. But if you don't mind me asking, why are you doing this? I mean, you stumble into town and immediately reach out to them."

Ah. Protective Elena. The Elena that makes decisions for everyone else. Right. Here she is.

"Us witches gotta stick together, Elena. Trust me, you're going to be extremely glad that I stumbled into town soon."

She frowns, but is interrupted when Stefan steps up, the candlelight making his face look menacing. "Stefan."

As I shake his hand, a psychometric flash hits me hard.

A sword slices through the air, glinting with a reflected flame. Two shadowed figures speed back and forth across the room, cracking stone as their bodies impact against the walls. The physically larger of the two slams the man's back against a portrait so hard that the window six feet away shatters instantly, so strongly that I feel his pain. The tables turn as the other iterally flips a table on top of his attacker, the other hand grasping the hilt for dear life. The other attempts to grab for the leg of the table, reaching so fast that my eyes can't follow, but suddenly, the man is there with his foot crushing his opponent's elbow. It feels as though my own arm snaps as the figure tries to swing the sword and fails, launching the sword across the room. It clatters against the wall, a ruby stone bouncing down the stone steps. Moments later, a subdued and unfamiliar laugh echoes through the room as Stefan's bloodstained head bounds after the ruby down the long staircase.

I grimace and let go.

Fuck. I've gotten actual visions before, but nothing like that. A visceral experience that forces me to question everything that I've ever planned. The Phoenix Sword or Stone or whatever the fuck the whole contraption's called coming into play several years before it's supposed to happen could be devastating.

And powerful. Oh fuck is it powerful.

"Uh, Logan. Anyway, if you'll excuse me, I'm not feeling well all of a sudden."

Elena glances toward me with concern, but I've no idea how to interpret Stefan's look as I disappear into the crowd.

I spot Bonnie, talisman around her neck, talking with Jeremy as I speed toward the nearest bathroom. I really hope she doesn't notice me disappearing, just to avoid the awkward.

I dip into the restroom just as the comet blazes across the sky. I was going to do this spell out in the open, off to the side of the festival with Bonnie watching me closely, but it's too late now.

Checking to see that no one's in the room, I have mere moments to try to channel its energy. Shutting off the lights and stepping into the square of the comet's light from the window, I pull the objects from my pocket and drain the watch on my wrist completely.

A simple silver ballpoint pen and a large tightly-sealed mason jar of specially-prepared ink. This is what I've been doing all day today, after the bank robbery netted me fifteen grand. The spice shop in town almost had everything that I needed, but I had a little to spare from raiding the Parkers' kitchen before I left the Pacific Northwest. This is a fascinating spell that I totally stole from the Tulle family grimoire, but coven secrets are coven secrets.

I focus on the light around me, the comet blazing across the window, and the air begins to pick up in the room. I open my palms, laying them flat, as the words to the ancient spell spill from my lips. The light from the comet intensifies, the objects begin to glow with its light, and they lift off from my skin, spinning faster and faster through the air. The silver casing of the pen flickers and turns to gold, the ink shifts from black to red and then black again.

And as I utter the last word, my magic totally spent, I grin at the newly formed Dark Object. Spelled Object. Whatever you want to call it. Would have been easier to create on any other day if I had a few people working in unison, but the energy from the comet and the pre-made materials gave me just enough boost to succeed all on my own.

I almost don't catch it until blood runs over my lips. Flicking the bathroom light back on, I glance toward the mirror to see blood dripping from my nose.

Huh. I guess that was a little bit more than I thought. Casual head trauma aside, I run water over my face and plug my nose, waiting for the bleeding to stop so that I can test out my new toy. I'm a little lightheaded, but it should clear up soon.

Somewhere folded up in my wallet- ah, there we go.

A tiny little map of Mystic Falls, printed from before the trip. Has enough detail to see street names and such, so it should be good.

I think intently of the person that I want to locate and write their name in the margin of the map. Ink bleeds into the paper and then the pen does its magic, gathering the ink into a bubble. And then the ink bubble spins across the map until it settles in the center of town square.

Fuck.


	11. Priceless

After cleaning up, I throw the locator pen, which needs a much better name, into my bag. Brain in total fucking overdrive.

This was not supposed to be happening. Why in the world would this guy come here of all fucking places?

Honestly, I hadn't expected to find him here. It was supposed to be a negative result and then find a positive, to prove that the map needed to be local to work. But here I am, waiting for the shoe to drop.

I reach into the base of the bag and pull magic from the charged salt, reducing it to null. This would be the absolute minimum amount for a quick defense if things get hairy.

It takes a long moment to reach up the courage to step out of the public bathroom, expecting him to be standing in the doorway, looking suave.

Instead, after a few minutes of searching, I catch his presence on the stage and my heart beats noticeably faster.

The stage lights are centered on him and on Mayor Lockwood, and he's gleaming with a prideful sneer that makes me weak in the knees.

I join the crowd, hoping to blend while keeping my eyes open. Thankfully, at the moment, I can enjoy the view for a few moments while the mayor, apparently, addresses the billionaire's presence in Mystic Falls. At any moment, one of his men could pop out of the shadows and take me down with little more than a snap of the neck, but I can take a few seconds to enjoy looking at the founder of Kingmaker Land Development, Inc.

Lockwood claps once to get everyone to quiet down. "I'd like to introduce an acquaintance of mine with a unique history in Mystic Falls and a keen mind for new developments that would benefit our quaint little town."

He's not supposed to be here. Really, if I took the time and aimed my cards right, I could take out a member of the Trinity immediately and potentially cloak before a vampire on his payroll notices that it's me. There are obvious reasons why I cannot do that, however.

I'm just… pissed that the plot is shot to hell. The Phoenix Stone Sword vision was just one aspect of this, and the potential for Rayna to get involved sooner, rather than later. But this? This right here is just BS.

It doesn't even make any goddamned sense!

I spot some of the other members of the Founders' Council. Caroline talking with her mother to the side of the stage, eying Lucien seductively. Carol standing behind her husband, hoping no one will notice that she's openly staring at the vampire's ass.

I'm sure it's a nice ass, but is literally everyone already inclined to be attracted to Lucien? Hmm. Maybe there's something magical going on to cause that, beyond the usual, "vampires are sexy." Some kind of lust aura? It would fit his MO, trying to make a good impression on the townsfolk and half the population.

They really are pitifully unaware of what's really going on if they invited the first non-Original vampire on stage right here, right now.

"My name is Lucien Castle, and my company and I are looking to extend business into Mystic Falls. There are several properties around the area that we've already acquired and are going to develop into an extended community, drawing on the rich history of this great town."

Bullshit. Something brought you here. You wouldn't normally be interested in Mystic Falls, so what the hell are you here for?

It's… not me, is it? I mean, I can let my imagination go wild on that, or I can think rationally. The odds of that are incredibly slim.

But then the odds skyrocket when he finds me in the audience and smirks, meeting my gaze.

Fuck.

"Logan!"

Thank you, Bonnie, for giving me something else to think about. I turn toward her and smile. "Hey."

"You ready to go? I'm… itching to get started." She's holding onto the talisman around her neck. Now that it's activated, it makes quite a lot of sense. She leans in and lowers her voice. "Magic!"

I cut back to Lucien on the stage briefly, and his smirk grows before he returns to schmoozing with Carol.

Bonnie's frowning when I manage to look back to her. "Hey, you okay?"

I nod. "I'm fine. Just nervous, build these things up in my head. It's important, and I don't want to screw it up, you know?"

Bonnie grins. "I can totally relate. Do you need a ride?" She pauses. "I noticed that you didn't have a car."

Lucien's now moved away from the stage, but isn't walking toward me. Perhaps I'm safe for now.

"Yes, that sounds great."

We walk back to her car, and I can't help but look over my shoulder. No strange men and women speed-blitzing into view, no paid witches ready to smite me. I should be fine.

When we finally get seated in her car and she pulls the ignition, I give her a pointed look and crank the radio up as high as I can. Bonnie protests, but I grab her hand before she can turn it down.

"Listen to me very, very carefully. I'm sorry I have to do it like this, but this is the best way to break the news." She starts to laugh it off, but when she sees how deadly serious I am, she tunes in. "The man that was on the stage is one of the oldest vampires in existence; my coven spoke unkindly of him, horror stories about sadistic murders with carved faces. I… think he's taken an interest in me, which can only mean that I'm on his radar."

And I just put you on their radar as well by speaking to you in front of him.

She wants to laugh it off. She wants to pretend that I'm not serious, I can tell. But she does, thankfully, give me the decency to start driving as quickly as she can.

"So these vampires-" she has a look of 'oh god, they're real' on her face- "are going to come after you?"

I shrug. "I don't know. It could have been a coincidence or a fluke or I could be imagining things. But I think it's very important that we get across the threshold of your grandmother's place as soon as possible."

She drives fast and I'm left to ponder, in the meantime, what the implications were.

Tristan, Lucien, and Aurora's sire lines never got along, but from what I remember of the show, their most recent conflict arose due to the death of Finn and Kol, and the extinguishing of their sire lines. Get a bunch of self-important people together with enough fire power to individually walk into the White House and bomb anyone anywhere, and you're bound to have conflict.

So are they getting along? Are the Trinity working together right now? Do Finn and Kol's sire lines have a similar leader to the three of them that they regularly speak with? In other words, did five potentially very powerful vampires and their contingents just walk into Mystic Falls and declare it theirs?

Fuck. Nothing about this situation could possibly be normal.

My only solace is finally crossing that threshold. Sheila can tell something is wrong immediately, and I can tell that she hasn't had any alcohol today. Either way, I try to smile to alleviate the tension, but Bonnie has no such filter.

"Grams, vampires are real? What's next, mummies?"

"Actually, there's a funny story about that. One of the splinter families of the Gemini Coven lived in Egypt and used mummification to draw power. Real nasty necromancy types." Wish I had their grimoires to add to my collection, but finding the real Books of the Living and the Books of the Dead is mighty complicated.

Sheila coughs at Bonnie's expression. "All right, tell me what happened."

"You know a man named Lucien Castle?" Grams shakes her head. "Legends say he's the first one that the Original families ever turned, so he's well over a thousand years old. Immensely powerful and skilled. He just walked into Mystic Falls with his company and bought a bunch of land to develop."

Sheila frowns. "That's… not good."

I shake my head. "No, no it is not."

Bonnie can't stand being out of the loop. "Can you two please tell me what's so important about this?"

It only takes a few moments to explain the implications to her, about vampire abilities and especially about compulsion, but once we do, the girl is more and more shocked as time goes on.

"They aren't all bad," Grams explains, looking off to the side. "Had a fun experience with one at Woodstock… Hmm, believe his name was Stefan Salvatore."

The look on Bonnie's face as she connects the dots is absolutely priceless.


	12. Demonstrations

"This is all so overwhelming."

I can relate. Imagine my surprise when I was reborn with all of my mental faculties, stuck within the body of a baby, infant instincts forcing me to do nothing but cry and shit for months. I nearly drove myself insane, unable to comprehend that reincarnation of all things was real.

But magic? Magic was all that I'd dreamed of in my past life, becoming something more than mundane, more than human. I had the right temperament to embrace my newfound abilities, the metaknowledge to know just what TVD magic could accomplish. Bonnie's inability to adjust to the supernatural world around her as quickly as I did is a little frustrating.

"I can't help it that you didn't believe me," Sheila says with a terse expression, and Bonnie side-eyes her hard. "There's a big, wide world out there, sweetheart. If not for your father, you'd have been spinning spells in your diapers."

Well, that and her mother leaving her behind after desiccating Mikael. But I digress.

I let them continue to discuss and my mind wanders once more, eyes darting frequently toward the window behind the two women. I fully expected to see Lucian waltz up to the window at any moment.

To assuage my fears, I reach into my backpack and remove the locater pen and the map.

"What's that?" Bonnie asks.

"A little device I made earlier today," I explain. "An object imbued with a locater spell."

Sheila stares at me for several moments and then looks at the necklace around her granddaughter's neck. "The comet."

I nod, dropping the end of the pen onto the edge of the map. Lucian. "Bonnie, one of the most powerful things that witches can do is spell objects. Effectively, spelled objects allow you to use magic without having to draw on your own abilities directly, allowing you to conserve some stamina for later use."

Her brow furrows. "Stamina?"

"Ask your grandmother," I say, pointing. "She knows all about witch stamina." Always thought her death, for such a simple spell, was stupid, though interesting world-building, from a certain point of view.

The ink drips from the pen, spreading into the paper for a couple seconds, and then suddenly begins to dart across the page, automatically pinpointing the vampire's location in Mystic Falls.

The Lockwood Manor. Fuck.

"What is it telling you?" Sheila asks.

I raise up the map to show them. "That vampire I mentioned. Lucien Castle? He's currently on the Lockwood property."

Bonnie's fist clenches as Sheila's eyes widen. "We can't let him hurt the town's mayor. Tyler doesn't deserve that!" Her determination is… cute, if a little out of place. Sheila has the decency to not be openly amused, but I can't help myself as I giggle.

"Honey, this man is a monster." Oh, good. Self-preservation has kicked in. Sobriety really does her life wonders. "He would not hesitate to kill anyone that he wanted, whenever he wanted. You definitely are not getting involved." She's… looking at both of us? Talking to both of us. What?

She frowns. "But I thought the whole point of this was to teach me how to do magic in order to protect the town from threats just like this?"

Superhero, Bonnie Bennet.

Huh. That's a train of thought I'd not considered, but I'm a little surprised that there isn't someone supernatural out there fighting crime and doing acts of kindness for ordinary civilians. Vampire abilities are insanely helpful for something like that, and anonymity is stupidly easy. Physical strength, speed, healing blood, compulsion. Just compel them to forget and then move on to the next job. Throw on a mask for the occasional surveyor you don't notice to compel and you can be a better Batman than Batman.

Maybe that's something to look into.

"Yes, it was," I admit. "And it still is. But you, and I, gotta build up to something like the world's oldest non-Original vampire."

"What exactly is an Original vampire?"

"What it says on the tin, plus a few extra tidbits," I say with a moment's pause. Sheila's reaction is terse, for reasons I can't fathom. "Anyway, there's nothing that we can do about Lucien right now. But we can begin teaching you." I gesture to Sheila. "Will you do the honors?"

The woman nods and turns to her granddaughter. Sheila's still clearly uneasy around me. Giving her the talisman, and getting Bonnie to actually sit down and not assume she's insane, are bound to pile up points in the "trust Logan" column. But she's old and I'm a stranger. These things take time.

"Magic is all about making connections between yourself and the world around you, and then using those connections to make whatever effects that you'd like," Sheila explains to a rapt Bonnie, hanging on every word. "Witches use the energy within themselves to access the energies of nature to fuel their spells. More powerful spells require more complex connections, more powerful sources of power."

I gesture to the locator pen and ink bottle. "When I made this, I used the power of the comet passing overhead. Assuming that nothing happens to it, it should work forever." Not even the amount of ink limits it. Drop a little blood from my finger into the bottle, and the ink will replenish.

Comets are overpowered as fuck.

I place the pen on the map once more and think intently of Bonnie, and the ink swirls across the map before centering in on Sheila's address. "See. It can even find you."

Bonnie frowns. "That's… a little creepy, honestly."

I chuckle. "Maybe it is. But it's going to be so damned helpful in the fight against those who go bump in the night, trust me." I'm wary to try to use it to locate one of the Originals. For all I know, one of their witches will be able to find me when I attempt it, and it seems a little premature to try.

"That's just one example of what magic can do," Sheila adds, trying to steer the conversation back to the real point. "Come here."

She leads the two of us to her medicine cabinet, where her stock of herbs is located. "Spices? Why are you showing us your spice rack?"

Sheila grins, but I take the opportunity, grabbing her jar of sage and holding it out for her. "Ground sage is considered a potent purifier, and when combined with the right ingredients, it can reverse some magical and mundane ailments."

The coven has several theories about sage, the most interesting of which is its probable inclusion in the spell used to create the Originals. One of the old Parker grimoires suggests that it might link to why vampires are unable to contract diseases and perhaps even stop their aging, when used in the spell to create them. Wouldn't be shocked if that were true, but I can't verify it with any prior knowledge that I have. I don't remember specific ingredients for spells in the show unless it was a major one.

"Jasmine is another example," Sheila says, pointing to the jar and then holding it out to Bonnie. "Burning it as incense can loosen up your mind and allow you to commune with the spirits."

Bonnie recoils, but I can already tell what she's thinking. "Before you object, I know what it sounds like, but this stuff is all real. All very real. You know that as well as I do."

To demonstrate, the bottle of sage hovers over my palm for several seconds, and then begins to orbit my arm. After two revolutions, it begins to do the same to Bonnie, and her expression is brilliant, her smile bright.

"Can you show me how to do that?"

I grin, and Sheila rolls her eyes, probably at the parlor trick. "Course I can."

.:O:.

I'm terrified to leave Sheila's later that night, but Bonnie offers to drive me back. According to the scrying pen, a much better name, Lucian is still sitting in the Lockwood's mansion. Carol and Richard are unharmed, and Tyler is across town. Far as I can tell, everyone's okay, considering.

"You're really paranoid."

She's not been exactly quiet, but she's not said much of consequence before now.

"Sorry, I can't help it. When you've been around as long as I have, and seen what I have, you'd be paranoid too." I'd get along famously with Klaus. "How are you adjusting to all this? Now that you're away from your grandmother anyway, you aren't going to hurt my feelings, long as you're honest."

She rubs her temple for a moment nervously. "It's… just a lot to take in. A couple days ago, my dad was hounding me about college applications, and I'm not even a senior yet. But now? Now it's all different."

"Oh man, you've no idea. Despite growing up with magic, with the supernatural, I'll never get tired of that rush! That feeling when you're doing something amazing, just because you hit the genetic lottery." Bonnie vigorously agrees, smirking. "But everything else doesn't really compare."

She and I make small talk about the subject, but I'm distracted because what she said reminded me of something very, very important. The map I've been using won't work, but once I get a bigger one of the state, I'll know for sure.

"I had a vision of a man and his bedridden wife a couple weeks ago," I suggest. "I figured out where the man works; he's the occult studies professor at Whitmore."

She ponders it for a moment. "Where my grandmother worked?"

I feign surprise. "I guess so? Anyway, something about the woman's condition in the vision suggested magic is the cause." Expression does this to people, apparently. "I was thinking of taking a visit, seeing if there's something that I could do to help her tomorrow. Would you like to come along?"

"Really?"

I grin. "Of course. It'd be a good opportunity for you to see magic in action and see just how it can help people."

She considers it for several seconds before finally shaking her head. "I'm afraid not. My dad's not gonna-"

"Oh, that's okay! Perfectly understandable. It was a little stupid to think that you'd drop everything."

"Right. I'm sorry about that!"

"No worries, really."

The ride is sort of tense for several minutes before we finally arrive at my little hotel room. I open the door, backpack in tow, and then lean back into the car. "Make sure you read a little from those grimoires your grandmother gave you before next week. Take good notes too; you can't play around with magic and do it half-assed."

Bonnie's talisman gleams as she rolls her eyes. "Yes, professor."

She drives off and I hurry into my room, crossing the salt boundary and then fixing it back with a word. Once I'm undressed, I fix the secondary boundary around the bed, and then triple check before I go to sleep that Lucien is nowhere near me.


	13. Want

I didn't bother to call ahead, scrying for him with the pen to confirm that he was, in fact, on campus. Working late, I suppose. The shitty rental car is annoying, taking a huge chunk of the money I had procured, but it'll have to do in the meantime.

Bonnie didn't change her mind, and I didn't know any of the others well enough to try to get them to come along. Perhaps if I'd gotten here earlier, I could have had Elena or Stefan come along to help. Would have been good bonding time, quick road trip, and all that. Ingratiating myself with the people who are stupidly effective at remaining alive, despite only one hundred and fifty odd years of experience, seems like my best bet. I know the show justifies it with plot armor, but maybe something like that applies here too.

I get out of the old Impala and head for his secluded, tiny office in a building on the outskirts of campus. They don't really admire their occult studies program well enough to justify a prime campus location. Or maybe they are just keeping up appearances: the board of directors at the school totally know all about what goes bump in the night, don't they?

The portly man at the front desk, who totally has a runic tattoo on his left wrist, points me to Shane's door but greets me with suspicion. Yeah… these guys totally know things.

When I push the door open, the professor has his head in his hands, clearly fighting to stay awake. "Excuse me." I grin as he looks up, jolted somewhat to see a strange face. "Hello, there. I'm Logan." I reach out to shake his hand.

He takes it carefully, staring at his watch. "Atticus Shane. Though you probably know that." Frowning, he meets my eyes. "Can I help you?"

I shake my head. "Not exactly. You see, I'm thinking that I can help you."

He raises an eyebrow. "With what?"

"I heard that your wife was in the hospital," I explain. Hospitals aren't going to be able to anything to improve her condition, the magic eating away at her. "I don't know how it happened, exactly, but I do recognize the symptoms. She… tapped into a magic called expression, and it's killing her."

He clearly doesn't know how to process what I'm saying.

"I can remove the taint of expression from her body. Can't promise that it will totally cure her, but I think it might help the doctors do their job, since her system will no longer be fighting itself."

This is a massive risk. I don't know how expression will actually interact with my own body, though I don't intend to let it sit within my system, wasting away as the siphoned energy dissipates. Ideally, this will hopefully prevent Shane from interacting with anyone later to try to rise Silas, to try to resurrect their son, Sam.

If Shane weren't already sitting down, I suspect that he might have slumped into his chair, unable to respond. "Listen, kid, if this is some kind of pathetic freshman jok-"

I shake my head. Currently, I don't have any magic in my system, though I did manage to siphon a little from the practice sessions last night and shove it back within the watch on my wrist. So I pull it into my system, red glow emanating from underneath the banded watch, and then raise my palm. Sparks flicker across my fingertips, a small flame swirling over the skin, and then vanishing in a shower of embers.

"This isn't a joke, professor. I have an ability that is extremely rare, even among witches, which allows me to siphon purposed magic and turn it into unpurposed magic that I can later use." I sit down across from him, the desk separating us. He's testing me, unsure, probably thinking that this is all too good to be true. "I have reason to believe that my abilities can uniquely remove the effects of your wife's expression and prolong her life."

"I don't even know who you are, or how you came to find me or my wife."

I smirk. "A little talent for precognition runs in my family. Me, my mother, my brothers. These visions guide us forward, and they led me to you. If you and your wife are important enough for my visions to trigger, then I feel obligated to attempt to help you." And get rid of the threat for Silas in the first place. "I know it's a lot to take in, a strange man coming up to you promising something outrageous. But if there's a chance that I can actually help your wife, shouldn't you take it? For her?"

He hesitates for a moment before finally nodding. "Fine. Let's go. I can give you a shot; what have I got left to lose?"

.:O:.

Her heartbeat is weak, her brain activity minimal. I imagine if I were more medically inclined, I'd wonder more about the physiological component to magic. The ability is inherited, so it seems likely to be genetic, but does that mean there are organs within the body that somehow produce magic? Or organelles? Or is it something else entirely that just appears somewhat biological?

She's currently unconscious, breathing through a tube. Shane walks over to the other side of the bed and holds her unresponsive hand tightly, staring at her with so much affection that I can almost tangibly feel it. I totally see why he was so willing to go to the ends of the earth and make a deal with the immortal to try to get his wife and son back.

"May I?" I gesture to her hand, and Shane holds up a finger.

"Wait just a second." He closes the blinds to the room and shuts the door. "All right."

I carefully and gently splay one hand on her forehead and hold her right hand tightly. It takes several seconds before I finally gather to courage to begin siphoning, and as I do, I close my eyes.

She convulses under the effects as I pull on that power within her, trying to remove it from her system, and pull it into my own. It... the rush, the impossible potency… I can feel it traverse through me, invigorating every cell, arousing my every desire. I throw my head back, gasp in exhilaration, as the neutral power fills the core of my being and mystically empowers me beyond any normal bit of magic that I've ever felt.

I can hear Shane calling out to me, can feel his wife twisting and writhing under the siphoning, but I don't care.

I just want power.

The sudden alarming machines alert me to something going on, and when something shoves into my shoulder, I'm forced to let go, tumbling to the ground.

Scowling, I rise quickly to see that Shane shoulder-checked me away from her, and my hands already twitch to continue the absorption.

Doctors and nurses rush into the room now, pulling in objects and ushering the two of us out.

"What the fuck did you do to her?!"

Shane is in my face, a hilarious notion; in seconds, I could send him twisting, writhing across the ground. Maybe that would be a good thing, removing him from the picture. Ultimately, Silas would still remain a non-factor after Shane's death, would he not?

The earnestness in his face, the emotional intensity, shocks me from my enraged stupor, and I frown. The nurse at the desk a few feet away is staring carefully at us, phone at the ready to call security. I step back from Shane and hold up my hands, itching to surge power through this entire wing of the hospital, my will made manifest.

"I… didn't expect that to happen," I say after a moment of conviction. "I… I think touching that power unleashed some of my inner instincts." Is this what Willow Rosenberg dealt with? "I didn't want it to stop."

Shane sets his jaw, eyes glistening. "This was a mistake. Get the fuck out of my sight before I contact hospital security."

I roll my eyes. I'd like to see them tr-

… Take a deep breath.

He's right. I turn and walk away. Later, I'll worry about whether or not she survives this. I… have a feeling that I did not remove all of the taint, but if the doctors can get her back to a stable condition, undoubtedly I stripped from her of some of that power. Perhaps she'll live longer.

On the way out of the room, I mutter the practiced spell to transfer the magic within my system into my watch, but the face of the watch suddenly shatters, the band tearing apart as the entire timepiece falls to the ground in dozens of pieces. Everyone in earshot has turned toward me.

"Fuck."


	14. Attraction

For nearly three days, my system has been flooded with magic, magic of another person's pure willpower mixed with my own, running through my veins.

Expression is purer, more potent, than any power that I have ever felt, and it didn't even originate from me. I can't imagine what it would feel like if I had generated it myself.

Through some careful study, I suspect that the recent rise in missing persons around Whitmore confirms the theory. Expression always requires the completion of an expression triangle, a ritualistic worship of thirty-six individuals. I don't think I would stoop to creating my own triangle unless I was properly motivated, but I have no qualms with using this power myself. After all, I was only trying to save Shane's wife from an early death and to prevent the rise of Silas; I didn't kill the people to get that power myself.

I've been very busy, using the power to complete a few projects, projects that will hopefully come in handy later. For example, I made three of the charm bracelets that will automatically create a temporary threshold barrier in any room. Hopefully, I'll only have to use them as a last resort, and they don't require any magic to activate.

I've spent most of my time at work, doing nothing but enjoying the feeling and ingratiating myself with the locals, while the magic slowly drained from my system. Thankfully, it's so potent that I've got quite a bit left.

I suspect that it will run out by the end of the week, but that's plenty of time.

"Bonnie, I want you to pull this pen toward you."

The pen hovers at around chest level before me, slowly spinning at my influence. I'm holding it in place with as much focus as I can muster.

The girl nods, determined, and Elena cheers from the sidelines. Wonder if she's missing her actual cheerleadi- Nope, not gonna qualify that thought. Don't want to spend any time on teenage bullshit.

"Don't feel discouraged if you aren't able to manage," I say after a moment of her expended effort, her hand waving through the air to focus her effort. I've never understood the need to gesture wildly at things; it feels natural, and feels more badass, but in a fight with a vampire, precious moments are wasted even moving your hand to knock one unconscious or activate the aneurism spell that every witch seems to know.

I don't really expect Bonnie to succeed. Expression is a significant upgrade over my normal skills. But struggling against adversity is what all this is about.

She waves once more, and I feel the tug of her effort on the pen, mentally probing against my control, but I hold it in place easily. "Ugh, I'm just not getting it. I don't even know if I've aim-"

I shake my head. "No, your targeting is just fine. I felt your magic affecting it, but you've gotta try harder."

"I am trying!" she says, frustrated, before trying once more, only to fail again. It's… really unfair. Under my normal abilities, she'd have probably succeeded by now.

Sheila seems to be enjoying these little sessions, though Elena's presence seems to irk her. Don't get me wrong, she probably loves the Gilbert girl, but this feels like a witch thing, and her presence is decidedly not.

"Can I get any of you some water?"

I nod toward the doppelganger as I let the pen fall toward the table. Bonnie grabs it with her magic, levitating it toward her, just to prove that she can do it. It's slow, methodical, and utterly useless if she can't grasp the basic concepts sooner. I've… had an entire lifetime of practice with this.

"Logan's right," Sheila states, demonstrating the lesson that I'm trying to impart on her granddaughter, as the pen yanks from Bonnie's control and floats over to center over her. "You've got the control down, to a certain degree, but you've gotta feel it. Your emotions are your conduit to your humanity, to the natural instincts that drive you. Therefore, they are your connection to nature, and the stronger you feel, the more impactful your spells can be."

"So what?" she asks. "I'm supposed to get angry?"

"Not necessarily," I answer. "Emotion is a key component, but you need a balance between emotion and calm, or your spells will lack the effort. Furiously creating a barrier spell, for example, might make the whole thing stronger, but more unstable."

Elena hands me the glass and I thank her, before I lift the water to my face directly with magic, drinking it. Elena nearly drops her own in shock at the display.

"This is awesome."

"I know, it's pretty great."

"It'll be great when I can do that," Bonnie says, jealous. She lifts the water from her own glass, gesturing wildly to hold it in place, and then manages to drink some of it, before it collapses onto her shirt. She curses, earning an admonishing glare from Sheila.

"I can dry that if you want." She must have inherited that look on her face from her grandmother.

Elena apologizes, despite not needing to, and goes with her to grab a washcloth and try to salvage her new top.

"You're showing off."

I glance up, perhaps the first time the old woman has actually addressed me in quite some time. "Err, probably, but I feel like it's worth-"

"No. Showing her what magic is capable of does not require showing her how skilled you are at every turn," the woman says. "You should change your strategy a bit. Work with her, not against her. It shouldn't be a competition."

"But competitions are motivating circumstances," I argue. "When she starts having to protect this town, she's going to end up in conflict, naturally. Preparing her for that conflict with this in mind helps her to grow toward that mentality all the time."

"It's unhealthy," Sheila admonishes.

"So is the world we live in."

I pick up my things just as Bonnie enters the room. "Where are you going?"

"Let's call it a night. Don't want to tire you out too much. I can tell that your grandmother needs the rest." She actually does look a little woozy.

"Let me drive you home," Elena offers, but I shake my head.

"No, I'll walk. New place isn't far."

After three more bank robberies, I put the down payment on a house and have several thousand dollars of savings. I'm not anywhere near struggling now. It was surprisingly fast to get all the paperwork taken care of, but once I got the key, that was all that mattered, basically.

Sure, I'm sleeping on the floor, but I'll buy furniture eventually.

I wave them goodbye, hoping that some time to think on our discussion will help Bonnie move past whatever block she has holding her back. Practice makes perfect.

The gentle breeze is welcome, the streetlamps creating an eerie vibe. But then again, I'm sitting in Mystic Falls, so it's just more of the same.

I'm nearly in front of my home when I hear their approach from behind me, the whoosh of displaced air. I knew that it was a sham; they don't want to kill me, whomever it is, or else I wouldn't have heard their approach before they snapped my neck.

As I turn, the face of Lucien stares down at me, nearly six inches taller, face half-obscured with shadow. He has no back-up, though honestly, he normally wouldn't need any.

"Can I help you?" I say with no actual concern.

The CEO grins, a suit jacket over his shoulder, giving off an air of relaxation that is totally an act to get me to drop my guard.

"I believe that you may," he answers. "A powerful seer such as yourself makes waves among the magical community."

Powerful is an overstatement. Most of that knowledge comes from other means, but I won't let him know that. "I didn't realize that my reputation was so good that a vampire of nearly one thousand years would want anything to do with me."

He nods slightly, smirking. "According to one of my own seers, you aren't supposed to be here. I can't make sense of her statement, but you seem to be in the middle of major conflicts, directly diverting the natural flow of time. Bunch o' magical nature nonsense." He steps closer, and I let him, trying really hard not to let my attraction to him actually impede my judgement here. The moment that I feel ready to attack, I'll attack.

He's referring to my out of universe travel, I believe. That redheaded witch must have sensed me somehow, must have sensed that I'm getting in the way. And here he is to off me, to keep things from going south for him and the rest of his sire-line.

"Tell your witch that the feeling's mutual," I answer finally. "You aren't supposed to be in Mystic Falls either."

Lucien laughs, a false one, but as he does, he moves slightly closer. Mere inches apart, and I can smell him, my heart beating faster. "You've got spunk, talking back to someone like me." A hand on my arm. "I admire that."

Oh my god, he's seducing me. This… can't be happening, can it? He's not actually interested? Oh man, I'm interested-

No- that doesn't matter, he's clearly trying to take advantage. He can probably tell my body is reacting to his presence in close proximity.

I back a half-step away, but he moves gracefully in the same moment, now even closer. A mere inch separates us now, and his body heat is so alluring. A finger lightly traces my chest, a second circling my hip bone.

"What are you-"

His lips cut that sentence off, and for that ever-present moment, I give in, already regretting it, as the lust takes over. Head tilting to follow his lead, he places a hand on the small of my back, inching ever so slowly down.

Oh god, I can't actually let this happen.

Magic pushes him away from me, shoving him back and throwing him on his ass several yards away. His expression changes to one of rage in moments as he stands in half-a-second. I can't help but partially match his sentiments: I could have let this sexy bastard have his way with me, but no.

I prepare another spell. I have to convince him that he doesn't have control over me, I have the cards here.

"What are you doing in Mystic Falls?"

"It's cute, honestly," he states after a time, his body still tensed. "You actually think you can make demands of me."

"I'm more powerful than I look," I answer. For the next week, perhaps. "I don't know what you're here in town for, but whatever it is, you aren't going to get it while I'm around." I have several theories already.

Lucien appraises me for a moment, but I continue. "Leave if you don't know what's good for you."

I'm ninety-nine percent sure that if he wanted to kill me, I'd already be dead. So whatever it is that he wants, he needs me alive and on his side to get it. That whole seduction act was just a ploy to get me to side with him.

He merely laughs. "I'll humor you, for now, Logan, out of sheer appreciation for the bollocks it takes to stand up to someone my age. But trust me, you won't be able to stop what I'm planning. Might as well just tag along for the ride. A man of your... capabilities would be welcome at my side."

Ominous. And fucking sexy.

As Lucien disappears in a moment, I hurry inside the house and shoot a text to Bonnie, warning her to make sure Elena sleeps the night at their home. A modicum of protection, just in case he's after the doppelganger.


	15. Same Side

I fell into a routine after that night, focusing on work at the Grill and practicing with Bonnie, never leaving Sheila's house when doing so. Scrying for potential threats coming from Lucien's way and monitoring the new Kingmaker Land Development office at pretty much every turn.

The other concerns seem so ludicrously uncomplicated compared to Lucien. For one, I have no idea what his plans are, only that he and the other two members of the Trinity have a hate boner for the Mikaelsons, and want to use that device whose name I can't remember to lock them away forever. Wish I knew how that turned out.

I'm halfway tempted to just walk into the tomb and eliminate the threat myself. Only reason that I haven't done so is that working with the Salvatore brothers would do a great deal to ingratiate myself to their side.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

The elder brother saunters into the bar and sits down in front of me, while I wait on the next table in my section.

My eyes focus over his shoulder. Vicki blowing off her shift with Tyler Lockwood. Her neck is bandaged, but the vampire repellent spell should still be in effect. Should keep her safe until at least the next full moon, if not more.

"You're new in town."

"And you aren't."

He smirks. Why can't I deal with one hot psychopathic vampire at a time?

"No, I suppose I'm not." He tilts his head as he drinks a shot. "Listen, I'm fairly certain that your witchy friend has something that I want."

The talisman. The tomb.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about. I should really get back to work."

He grabs the upper part of my arm, vampire strength forcing me to wince.

"That'll be a magnificent bruise," I deadpan, not bothering to yank myself from his grip, which looks surprisingly relaxed, despite its power. Superstrength in action, folks.

"Don't lie to me," he glances down at my nametag, "Logan. You know you took it."

How does he know that I took it? That's the question that bugs me. I'm honestly unclear on the details of how he knew the Bennet talisman was even in the Lockwood Manor in the first place, but I'm definitely confused as to how he could possibly know that I took it.

"Again, really don't kno-"

The grip gets tighter and I force out a gasp between gritted teeth. If it were not in the middle of the goddamn Grill, I'd shove him away as easily as I did the millennia-old vampire earlier this week.

"Why are you threatening me?"

"You got in my way," Damon declares. "I don't like idiots that get in my way."

Gotta pivot this.

"Quite frankly, I don't really want to get in your way."

His brow raises. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"My coven has the tendency to eliminate vampires when they group together. Nest mentality and all that, really challenging stuff." His interest is piqued, and when I pull my arm away, he lets go. "Legend has it that there's a nest of desiccated vampires, lying in a tomb somewhere under a church." I'll keep the future sight excuse if necessary under-wraps. "I'd quite like my new town to be free of a threat like this, you know?"

He stares at the mahogany of the bar for a moment, and I'm pretty sure that I'm avoiding a table right now. Whatever, I don't really need the job, with the cash I have lying around.

"Legend, huh." He doesn't have an inquisitive tone. "Well, Miss great-great-great whatever has the key to opening it. Wouldn't it be easier to just-"

"Give it to the witch it belongs to so that she can open it?" I'll keep the fact that I could just siphon a simple barrier spell like that away for the time being. "Pretty sure we're on the same side here."

"Huh. Did… not expect that sort of cooperation."

"What can I say, I'm a helpful guy."

I leave to take someone's order, though I can't keep my thoughts in check. He doesn't move from the bar, and the distraction of the tomb shenanigans calms me temporarily. At least I have the foreknowledge to wipe away that problem before it actually comes to bear.

"So you can help me open the tomb?" I hand over the order to the kitchen staff and return to him.

"Not yet. Bonnie is fairly new at all this, and though she's getting better, she's not going to be ready to open it for at least another couple months." That's not explicitly true, but giving Bonnie something to shoot for is good for the long-term survivability of the Mystic Falls group. Wiping out a threat like this is something that should be done as a group, even if I could handle it myself. "And before you ask, Sheila can't do it on her own, not that she'd want to help you anyway. A Bennett witch has to perform the spell, and neither one of them are strong enough separately right now."

If Sheila hadn't ruined her body through age and alcoholism, I know that she could do it.

"How do you know so much?"

"Talent, a library from a coven that's older than your kind, and asking the source herself." He appraises that for a moment, but I'm not finished. "Look, I will help you. We have a mutual goal. But you have to promise me something."

He laughs and then smirks. "Ugh, fine."

I'm not going to even entertain the notion that he'd take me seriously, so I'm not falling for it. Elena hasn't worked her doppelganger vagina magic on him yet.

"I care about the people in this town," I gesture to the patrons around me, ending on Vicki, "and supernatural entities are a threat to its safety. Keep your fangs in check, or I'll destroy the amulet and then remove you myself."

I wish I could reasonably say the name on the tip of my tongue without showing my hand, but keeping Katherine out of it is important. Probably should track her down too, honestly, but I haven't thought about it.

He just grins and then leaves, probably thinking the threat is cute or something, and I'm a little surprised that he didn't make some sarcastic comment. Isn't that Damon's usual spiel? Maybe I really did throw him off his game.

Or maybe that's what he wants me to think.


	16. Hope

September bled into October and the weather cools to my favorite time of year. Unfortunately, with the potential impending doom at every corner, I can't truly enjoy it.

It isn't until the second week of October when the town seems to catch on that there's a pattern of bank robberies in the neighboring area: blood always at the scene.

"That doesn't seem to make much sense."

I peek up from looking over Bonnie's shoulder, her hand furiously writing notes about her own research into this particular spell into a notebook, one that will eventually compile into a grimoire of her own.

"What do you mean, Sheila?"

The woman's eyes are narrowed, watching the television reporter explain the unknown phenomenon. "Why would vampires leave blood at the scene?"

"Yeah, wouldn't that be like spilling your food?" Bonnie asks, smirking.

Hmm. They are asking good questions. "Suppose it would. Don't you think it's odd that the cameras never find anything either?" I sip my tea.

The fact that the cameras show no sign of tampering seems to mystify the news anchors far more than the inexplicable blood appearing out of nowhere on the footage.

"They could just compel bank security to remove the footage, but leaving blood behind just seems pointless. And there are no missing people or corpses either," Sheila says with a thoughtful tilt of her head, rubbing her chin.

Bonnie furrows her brow. "Can they really just… waltz into a bank and get whatever they want?"

"Vampires don't have to play by the rules. Not even the moral ones," I explain. "I have to admit that the possibilities if I had that ability are tempting. Imagine all the good that you could do. A criminal prosecutor forcing a criminal to tell the truth. A social worker forcing abusive parents to no longer be abusive. Removing the trauma of soldiers when they get back home. And that's not even getting to the other abilities: curing genetic diseases, healing wounds as an EMT."

"All for the price of drinking human blood." Sheila is frowning at me.

I throw my arms up in surrender. "Hey, I never said it didn't have drawbacks. But that's what blood banks are for. You know how many blood bags have to get thrown out? Something like over a million pints every year." I turn to Bonnie. "I much prefer the stylings of magic anyway."

While the grab-bag of vampire abilities might seem more immediately tempting, witches can pretty much do anything, even defying the rules that this world seems to have in place, whenever the plot demands it.

The best part is that I'm not even limited to one or the other. Just have to take that leap into vampirism.

"That doesn't seem quite as bad as I thought," she contemplated aloud. "But how often do vampires only do good with it?"

"For every one Stefan Salvatore, you have fifteen Damon Salvatores," I muse. "Give or take."

Sheila laughs. "Too true. Now, go through what you're thinking about this spell now."

Bonnie nods, showing her best approximation of an ancient diagram, her tight handwriting pointing to the various ingredients arranged in the circle, with the Latin equivalents in a key to the side. She's… learned a lot, but half of the basics are just memorization.

"I think I can definitely brew this on my own now."

The table before her has everything that she needs to perform it, and when I nod for her to go through with it, she starts to arrange them according to the diagram and follow the instructions.

She places the rose in the center of the circle and then holds out my hand. Reluctantly, I hold it out and she pricks my finger, wincing slightly as she drops the blood over the rose petals. She then begins to chant as I back away slowly, waiting to see what will happen.

The candles flare with light suddenly, the air in the room growing perceptibly warmer for a moment, and then the rose starts to grow, divide, and replicate.

In my direction.

Thorny vines curve toward me, rose heads budding off every few inches, and then continuing toward me in a mass of tentacle-like plant growth, winding around the table legs and then snaking across the ground.

"All right," I say with a grin, backing away slowly even as my grin fades. "You can stop the spell now."

She chants the words to stop the spell, but it doesn't seem to work at first glance, the growth continuing on its own accord, pursuing me like some of the worst porn I've ever had the misfortune of viewing that one time.

Well… a few times.

"I can't-"

Sheila frowns at her granddaughter, raises her arm, and the spell growth ceases with a single word, then retreats across her living room and back into the bowl.

"Hey, at least the activation worked," I say, to appease her obvious disappointment. "Tied to the right cosmic event and other conditions, and that growth would have probably continued to follow me, maybe even for miles."

Or longer. I remember Dahlia's vine growth, keyed in on finding Hope and drawing some of her blood. That's what this spell is supposed to do, a kind of pursuit spell that has some combat potential, in the right circumstance. Only problem with this version is that it requires the target's blood, so it's not going to be a threat to someone like Lucien, for example, unless I could get some of his blood.

Either way, this is still a potentially powerful spell that is more than just making things move with your mind or burn things.

"Well, it still didn't work."

"You just need more practice on the deactivation side of things." She often had this problem at this stage, with other more complicated spells. She could get them to start but struggled to stop them.

"I think there's something more about this subject in your great-great-grandmother Roberta's grim-"

"Grams, I'm tired of reading books."

I intercept before her complaints can continue and escalate. "I hated reading books of all kinds, when it felt like they were assigned to me, for school." Both lifetimes of it. "But you can't get the really good stuff unless you read. Magic isn't something you just know how to do- you gotta learn it."

"Yeah, yeah," she said after a moment. "I'm going to head out, though. Caroline wants to go shopping, and I've been blowing her off-"

"So you're going to blow us off instead? The session isn't even half over yet." I frown and she rolls her eyes.

"Just go, Bonnie, you probably do need a break."

Did not expect Sheila to disagree with me. Do the two of them not understand the monumental danger that Lucien Castle brings them? Good lord.

Stefan and Damon can't stop Lucien on their own. Magic is the equalizer, something that can negate the power-level bullshit that older vampires seem to have over newer ones. I need Bonnie on my side, the brothers need Bonnie on their side. As soon as possible.

I would argue, but I've learned quickly that arguing with Sheila Bennet gets you nowhere.

Bonnie just thanks us both and then leaves, moderately in a good mood. I gather my things to make my leave, but Sheila grabs my arm.

"You keep looking at that photograph on the mantle. Why?"

I know which picture she's talking about, but I didn't even notice that I was spending so much time looking at it. Sheila and Abby at Bonnie's birthday party years ago.

"That's Bonnie's mom, right?"

The woman nods. "Yes. Is that why? Did you-" She pauses, sighing. Her hopeful face plummets as realization of something crosses her eyes, letting go of my arm. "Never mind."

"I think I know where she is." I sit back down as she guffaws, clearly not ready for me to throw the Abby Bennet card this early. "But you don't, do you?"

"Haven't spoken to her in years," she admits. "I… tried to find her once, but she blocked me. I realized that I didn't particularly care to find her after that, and-"

"And you turned to alcohol."

She breathes deeply, not looking me in the eye. "Among other reasons, yes. My own daughter turned her back on her family. How could I not be disappointed?"

Oh man, if only Sheila knew.

"Do you want me to help you patch things up with her? If not for you, then for Bonnie?"

The hope in her eyes nearly makes me tear up. Not for the first time, and hopefully not for the last, I'm reminded of just how old Sheila really is.


	17. Normativity

Stuck in a car with two teenage girls and the tagalong boyfriend is awful.

I'd rather ride with Bonnie and Sheila, if I'm being honest, but I need to bond with everyone, and this is decidedly a family affair. And Caroline, my favorite female character on the show, is sitting next to me talking incessantly about the upcoming Lockwood Halloween party.

At least she isn't talking about Damon. If I remember right, she was already his sex slave by this point. Weird that the show kinda glosses over that point.

"So, to turn the subject to something actually important," I say with a grin. "What exactly do you think about all this, Caroline?"

She smirks at me like I'm challenging her for a moment. "Think about what?"

"Vampires, witches… the supernatural."

The blonde does seem uncomfortable. Probably not really believing it. "I don't really know. I'm just here for Bonnie and my friends." But she looks me in the eye. "What are you here for, again? Why should we let you along?"

Stefan doesn't turn around from the driver's seat, just stares ahead, even as Elena and Caroline watch intensely.

"I've been helping Bonnie. It's my visions that are leading me to her mother in the first place, and I care about your friend too. Didn't seem right to sit it out, when I can be there for her." I mean that sincerely, enough that I hope Stefan's superhearing doesn't think I'm lying.

"These visions of yours," Stefan asks, and I tense slightly in anticipation of his question, "how do they work?"

"Flashes, glimpses of the future in dreams. I'm not one hundred percent sure, but the clearer the vision, the more important the event will be. This one is the clearest I've had for a long time."

"And you're using it to help a friend." Elena doesn't question it, just accepts it. Good on her. "Makes you a pretty good guy, in my book."

Considering how fucking often the Bennet witches come up in the show, just because of their proximity to the Originals' hometown, it's a bit more than just being a good guy. But I won't correct her.

"What do you get out of it?" Caroline asks.

Always the materialistic one. "Get out of it?" They are in 'protect their friend' mode, so I can't really blame them. "Am I not allowed to do something out of the kindness of my heart?"

She sighs. "You come here out of nowhere and start weaseling your way into Bonnie's life. Just seems like you want something."

Damn it, she's perceptive. "Is this really any different than Stefan, the vampire, coming in out of nowhere and weaseling his way into Elena's life?"

The vampire has the decency to stay looking forward, but Elena is clearly not happy. Caroline interjects before her friend can answer. "That's different though. They're dating. And you're clearly not interested in dating her. Unless you're lying about that too." The look of disgust on her face is unsettling, until I remember her father's estrangement from her mother because of his sexuality. She's probably got some issues to work on.

Awkward car rides, galore.

"Trust me, I'm not lying about that." I can hardly keep my eyes off of Stefan's body, and I'm ninety percent sure he's noticed. "Or about anything else really. I have to be careful what I say and when, or the future will change to the point where my knowledge becomes useless."

"What kinds of things are you talking about?" Stefan asks.

"Good things?" Elena adds. "Bad things?"

"Both. Powerful people coming in and out of Mystic Falls over the next few years, with machinations to hurt innocent people and be all around awful." Klaus, Kai, Katherine. "New friends and lovers, laughter and fun. It's not all bad, but I don't particularly care to know who you're going to be dating in a few months, Caroline."

She guffaws and I just grin. "Not telling, sorry. My lips are sealed, but yours certainly won't be." Always liked Matt and Rebekah more than Matt and Caroline, so even if I prodded in that direction, it wouldn't last once the blonde Original shows up.

Elena giggles and Caroline just looks embarrassed. "Getting psychic visions of strangers hooking up is creepy."

"Can't say I disagree, but you should probably get that mole checked out, Elena."

It's the other girl's turn to blush, and I can't help but be amused at my own joke. Stefan just watches me carefully from the rear view mirror, and I don't pay him any mind.

.:O:.

Abby's little cottage is in the middle of nowhere, probably hard to track, but if I had to guess, it's only a few miles away from the tomb where Mikael lies, waiting for someone to unleash him. It's impressive, honestly, that someone was able to hold him down for longer than a few days, considering how often characters get taken down only to jump back up again around here.

"I'm going to go in with her," Elena says, prompting Caroline to agree. Stefan doesn't offer but probably wants to, to support Elena and Sheila too.

"Wish me luck," Bonnie says to me, looking almost like she wants to hug, but goes against her better instincts. "Thank you for this."

"It's my duty as a friend," I say truthfully. Can't promise that you'll like what you see in there.

Sheila smiles happily, a little nervous and jittery, hands shaking even as she beckons her granddaughter forward with her hand on the girl's shoulder. She hasn't, according to Bonnie, had a drink in over two weeks, though she can't promise for sure. Just accepts her grandmother's word. She doesn't have to thank me.

I lean against the car next to Stefan, enjoying the comfortable silence, as I worry what this all might bring. Stefan's always been the introspective brother, so I imagine that he's enjoying this as well.

"I can't figure you out."

Hmm. "I have that effect on a lot of people."

He doesn't smile. "These visions. I know you're telling the truth, but I also know that your heart beats faster whenever they're mentioned. Seems like you're not telling us something."

"Like I said earlier, I-"

"Can't. Yes, I got that." He points as he turns to look at me finally. "But I've been doing some research. You could easily be manipulating us into a future that you want to happen, and how can we know if that's a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Please tell me you didn't type that into Google?" He rolls his eyes. "I know a spell- a ritual, really, that could let you see one of my visions, if you want. If you open the trunk, I think I've got what I need to perform it." That backpack might as well be a component pouch with all the shit I've stuffed into it.

He ponders it for a moment. "Do we have time to do it?"

"Shouldn't take more than a minute or two to perform."

"Is it dangerous?"

I grin. "I don't think so. I trust you."

He opens the trunk and produces the backpack, and I close the hatch before gathering everything I need. Takes some time to sort through the Ziploc bags of herbs, but I'm lucky this is not a particularly expensive spell, because it draws on the magic of the vampire currently feeding to fuel it.

Placing them into a bowl carefully and speaking the words, I siphon the magic from the bag of barrier-spelled salt and then light the grounded herbs on fire with a flick of my influence, the smoke billowing upward, spiralling once, and then directly into my nose as I breathe in, unperturbed by the breeze.

"Is… that it?"

I shake my head, pull up the sleeve of my jacket, and hold out my wrist to him, the smooth skin exposed to the sunlight.

"What do I…?"

"Bite down and drink, silly. Shouldn't take more than a couple mouthfuls before I can transfer a vision to you."

Oh man, the look on his face as he tortures himself is absolutely gold. I wish I had thought in advance to film this, to show to Damon later. Hopefully after Damon has his Elena-induced change of heart, of course.

Three heartbeats later, and he steps back several feet, shaking his head. "No, I can't do that."

"Why not? I know you won't hurt me, and you can just give me a bit of your blood afterward to stop the bleeding. No harm done, and you can see a bit of what I see."

He just fervently shakes his head. "Sorry, Logan, that's just not a good idea."

I know he's not going to budge, so I pull down my sleeve and start putting away the materials. The buzz from the magic herbs is starting to shift my perceptions a little, but it only lasts for a few seconds, unfortunately. It doesn't compare to the actual intoxication of magic, and even that is nothing to expression.

"Look, speaking as someone who spent his teenage years pretending to be something that I'm not," I say, not really looking at him, "you really shouldn't do the same."

"Being gay and being a vampire are totally different."

"True, but the self-denial you're feeling? Worrying that you're going to end up in Hell for your very existence, whether you choose to act on it or not?" I look him in the eye. "You have to admit they are somewhat similar."

"But I could hurt people! I... have hurt people."

Am I about to get a Ripper confession? He barely knows me, and he might spill his guts. Jesus, is this some narrative convention of the show's universe or is he just that desparate to confess to someone who doesn't seem like he'll judge?

"I don't think you'll hurt me. After all, Elena is right inside that house, and you wouldn't want to disappoint her. And I can defend myself," I argue with a smirk. "All I'm saying is that you can drink human blood without doing permanent damage to anyone, and I think you can turn that same kind of self-control that it takes to drink squirrel blood or whatever into something positive."

I really wanted to show him something about Katherine too, or maybe Klaus.

Oh shit. I… the compulsion. That time that Klaus and Stefan and Rebekah knew each other, decades ago. I think I could remove that.

I should remove that. Having someone who knows what the fuck is going on because he has a personal and intimate knowledge of him would be far more important than anything else.

I should do this carefully. Even now, Stefan's still refusing the offer, largely out of some need to explain himself and his reasoning; I think he mentioned his brother, but I'm far too busy thinking about something more important for that.

How do I fix this? I could be impulsive. Snap his neck right here in broad daylight, shove him in the car, and then drive to some abandoned building and suck away the compulsion. Then explain why I did it, and if he's smart, he'll realize what a threat Klaus is and will understand why I did it.

But I can't. I've got time. Time is on my side.

I think.

"Logan, Stefan. Come on in!"

Bonnie's voice cuts me out of my reverie, and I nod once to Stefan before dragging my backpack inside.


	18. Pebbles

When I follow the others inside Abigail's home, it's almost unnoticed that Stefan stops at the door. Shooting him an awkward shrug, he clears his throat aloud. "If you don't mind, ma'am, could you invite me inside?"

A teary-eyed Bonnie understands the rules for this already, but Caroline giggles, perhaps the thought of that weakness applying here to be amusing. Elena stares with her sad, puppy dog eyes and looks pleadingly toward Bonnie's mother, who has her hand wrapped tightly in her daughter's grip. Sheila sits on Abby's other side, an arm draped carefully over the other's shoulder.

Three Bennett witches, together. It's hard not to think of the Halliwell sisters in this moment, but more pertinently, the spell Esther used to link her children together, channeling the entire Bennett line.

Sheila clears her throat, a burgeoning smile growing on her face. "He did come all this way, Abigail. Plus, he knows how to groove, and you don't want to miss that!"

Bonnie groans aloud, and I can't help but laugh at the joke no one else gets.

There's a moment of hesitation, before Abby turns to Bonnie, sunlight streaming into the room from a wide French window on their left. The steam from the warm coffee glints against the light. "You trust him?"

Bonnie turns to Elena and then to me before nodding. "He's not given me reason to mistrust him." Reasonable, at this stage. A year from now in canon, and they'd trust each other implicitly.

Stefan shrugs slightly from the doorway. "I can't blame you for your prejudices, if I'm being honest with myself."

Abby glances toward her mother and then nods to the vampire. "You can come in, Stefan." From the look on her face, she's still treating the situation with the utmost paranoia. Given the entombed vampire vampire hunter only a few miles away from here, I can't blame her either.

He strides inside and looks around, as the rest of us settle in near the growing family. "You have a lovely home, Ms. Bennett."

She smiles slightly before standing to her feet, fingers gripping Bonnie's for a few more seconds before she pulls away. "Can I get you all anything? Another coffee pot is already brewing if anyone wants to partake."

Stefan leans against the mantle slightly, with Elena sitting on the duvet beside him. The two look like they belong in a goddamn model catalogue. He shakes his head. "No thank you, ma'am."

As I prepare for my own cup to be brought to me, the room falls silent for a moment, Bonnie and Sheila looking a bit nervous and yet also relieved. The blonde turns to the vampire. "Do you…" Caroline stops her question for a moment and then continues. "Do you drink anything other than-" her voice lowers for no reason, "- blood?"

I can't help but laugh. "Bit of a mystery to me, too, but I think the body basically functions as it normally would. Hunger, sleep, sex." Elena blushes predictably, and Bonnie grimaces.

"I still get a craving for ice cream from time to time, Caroline." He smiles at her confusion. "Just need blood, not food, to sustain me."

"Human blood?"

He shakes his head. "It's not necessary. I'm on a strict animal diet." Not sure what she thinks about that, but the look on her face says wonders.

Abby returns after a few moments with a tray of drinks in glasses, alongside a mug of coffee for me and for Elena. "Not much of a party, but this is all I had to prepare."

"It's fine, Mom." Bonnie grins, and I wonder if she's surprised at the idea of saying that aloud, addressing the woman herself.

"We're just glad to be here for Bonnie, to share the moment with her, as friends," Elena adds, smiling affectionately.

Abby glances around the room before looking toward me and toward Stefan. "What's the occasion that a vampire and a few witches would be working together?"

"Logan is working with me to help Bonnie master her gift," Sheila explains. "Seems to have it in his head that she's important to the safety of Mystic Falls."

That was… oddly dismissive. "Don't want to get into all this business on a day like today."

Abby nods knowingly, staring more at Stefan than at me. "So you want something from me?"

"Not… particularly." I look around for a moment, and the room hesitates. "If you had time to do so, your theoretical knowledge would be a great boon for her training. Sheila said that you had lost your gift?"

Abby thinks for a few seconds. "Yes, but why are you so interested in Bonnie's life? Putting her on this… pedestal that you could easily stand on yourself to protect a town. Whatever that means."

The tension in the room spreads with every word.

"Have you ever had a feeling that something was going to happen right before it did?" She doesn't answer. "Imagine that feeling but accelerated tenfold. I know all sorts of things about the future of Mystic Falls, and your daughter is one of its key pieces."

Caroline clearly doesn't like this train of thought, but it's not the first time that she's heard it. Elena must have warned her.

"If you chose not to act on those feelings and something bad happened, how could you not feel responsible for it? I can't speak for you or for anyone else, but the guilt of that inaction would eat me alive from the inside out. So, I'm going to help Bonnie succeed and stand on this 'pedestal' together."

"I just don't understand. What have you seen?" Abby asks.

"What she said," Caroline interjects, glaring daggers. "If it's anything but the Lockwood Halloween party, then I don't know want to know."

All eyes are on me, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I trust everyone but perhaps Abby in the room. But, weighing the pros and cons, it has to be done at the right time.

"When I act on my visions," I begin, turning to each of them, "the less people that know about their outcome, the better. The future is uncertain, and prophecy is tricky business. If I told you all about a specific event and trusted you to help me prevent it, then there're so many factors involved that one of you might end up ensuring that event happens, or that something worse will happen."

Sheila shrugs slightly and then nods. "I don't have much talent for it, but if I understand it correctly, it's like throwing a pebble into a lake, near a leaf floating nearby. One pebble creates a ripple pattern as it splashes, but two pebbles create two separate patterns, and so on. It's really hard to predict where that leaf will end up with that many ripples."

"That is astute of you, ma'am."

"You mentioned this earlier." Elena leans forward, resting her elbow on her knee. "But everything is always making a ripple. How is anything set in stone?"

Surprisingly insightful.

"To borrow the lake analogy, if I may, picture a lake with a small island in the center of it. No matter what you do, throwing pebbles is never going to move that island, no matter how many ripples you make."

That doesn't seem to satisfy everyone in the room, but Sheila seems impressed. Though that could be more from the whole idea that she's in this room right now, with her daughter and her granddaughter. She's had a similar pleasant look to her all day.

"What kind of events are islands?" Bonnie asks.

"Well… everyone dies eventually." I give a pointed look to Stefan, who regretfully nods. "Sorry for being morbid, but the details leading up to that death can shift and change, the rippling waves may erode away at the island, but the island will ultimately still exist, even if it's underwater."

"God this is all so weird." Caroline stands from her seat and leaves the room, prompting Elena to stand and head after her. The screen door creaks shut, whining throughout the house.

"Why did you bring her into all of this?" Abby asks her daughter after a moment, somewhat disappointed. "The sheriff is her mom, right?"

"She's my best friend." Bonnie looks a bit annoyed, standing to follow her friends. "If I'm going to be a part of all of this, then Caroline needed to know."

"But why?" Bonnie's brow rises. "Why would you want all of this? To practice at all? You'll be in danger."

"You sound like Dad."

"Don't buy into all this mess. It's not your problem."

"Serving nature is my birthright."

"You're not serving nature working with a vampire! Nature fights back, Bonnie, trust me!"

Stefan catches my eye and then calmly rises from his nearly stationary position, following out the door. He gestures with a lazy hand for me to follow him, and the screen door creaks once more.

Not wanting to listen to this, to be reminded that this may have been a mistake, I follow his lead.

He finds a tree nearby and leans against it slightly, the sun granting odd patterns through the thick oak tree branches. I can faintly hear arguing going on in two separate directions, from Elena and Caroline and from the three Bennetts inside, and I don't envy his ability to hear all of it if he wanted to.

"This may have been a mistake."

"Connecting the three of them was worth it," I say after a moment, trying to block out the faint bit of conversation. "If only because mothers and daughters need each other."

"That's not the only reason though, is it?"

I shake my head. "No. No, it isn't."

"What you said in there. About fixed events." He gestures for a moment toward Elena around the side of the porch, her back turned as she discusses the situation, almost pleading with a nigh-furious Caroline. "She's part of it, is she not?"

I smile slightly. "She is."

He twists to look me in the eye for a moment, almost close enough to compel me if that were possible. I don't flinch away. "Tell me."

"It might mess with the –"

"I don't care. Tell me."

Letting out a heavy breath, I steel myself, ignoring the nagging thought that he didn't accept the offer to share a vision earlier. "You love her, right?"

Stefan hesitates for a moment, likely caught off-guard by the sudden shift. "I do."

True love, and they haven't known each other much longer than a few weeks. Doppelganger – Traveler bullshit or just an infatuation with Nina Dobrev lookalikes? Though, for him, it's been a few months, after he saved her life.

"It's somewhat unclear for the who and the why, but your girlfriend's life is in danger, Stefan. Those powerful people I mentioned, coming to town? Their identities might be unknown, but many of them are vampires, and they want her dead."

He whips his head to look at Elena, who has her arms wrapped around Caroline in a tight hug.

"I wish I knew more, but I'm convinced that she's in the crosshairs of some nasty people."

His eyes never leave her. "So this trip, training Bonnie, bringing me. It was a plan, then, to keep her alive."

"Bonnie needs to know how to defend herself, so that she can defend Elena from threats unknown. And if you know, then you'll definitely keep her safe."

Stefan turns his hero hair in my direction. "What's so important about her that she'd have people trying to hurt her?"

"I wish I knew. All I know for sure is that my visions are telling me that we have to keep this girl alive and out of harm's way." I've considered the option of having someone turn her already, but all that does is force her to live a life that she'll hate, running from Klaus as badly as Katherine does.

"We?"

Hmm. "You wouldn't let someone that you love die, would you?"


	19. Leverage

Halloween approaches faster than I intended, but an uneasy calm has spread over the town and the region. No suspicious deaths have been reported; it appears that my threat to destroy the means to open the tomb has pacified Damon. A bit of good news that I'm almost convinced will backfire somehow, one day.

For the past few days, work has consumed most of my time, though almost none of my worry. Training and preparing aside, at least there's good company.

"Tanner won't stop riding our asses." A very odd thought comes to mind before I shove that aside, glancing toward Matt as he continues spraying the dishes. "In school and on the field. Thought he was going to kill Tyler the other day in the locker room, for failing the last test."

One of the only things that I regret changing. The stupid asshole coach is still alive, and he'd be long dead by now if Damon had his way.

I hand him the next dish. "That sucks, buddy. I never played sports, wasn't in good shape."

Matt studies me for a second, eyes shining under the kitchen lights. "Nah, man, I think your shape is fine." Grinning, he continues, rambling about their next game.

The desire to ogle Matt while on my shift is, apparently, my only real worry this evening, a worry that is harder and harder to stifle the longer that I work here. I'm tempted to leave the job behind altogether, to live off of my pilfered funds, but that's only a small thought. Easily ignorable, for the good of my libido.

As I'm bringing back the clean dishes to the front, someone clears their throat. "Have you gone on break yet?"

The voice shakes me from my thoughts, and a different problem rises. The smarmy asshole himself leans over the counter blocking access to the kitchen, sniffing the air slightly.

Matt, glancing up at the newcomer, waves off in my direction, wringing his impressive arms. "You can go ahead, I'll tell Rhonda. Ben's coming back in a moment."

Fuck. Sliding my apron off onto the rack, I slowly walk out to meet him, and his thin palm catches the back of my neck, pushing me toward an empty table. "Lucien, what are you doing here?"

"Other than listening to your heart beating like a bitch in heat around that blond?"

I roll my eyes as I sit across from him, feeling trapped. No magic sits in my system at the moment, but my bracelet still rests on my hand, at the ready. "What do you want?"

"I don't want anything."

"Liar."

He chuckles, the light from the setting sun drifting into the window and glinting against his stupidly pretty teeth. "You caught me. Just like I caught you."

What could he even mean? I've been relatively inactive of late, keeping my head to the ground. Bonnie eventually started training again – the fight with her mom had been even rougher than I realized, though I'm told they eventually recovered. Maybe. Teenagers are stubborn.

"My colleague Alexis has hit a snag. You see, in trying to learn about your whole thing," he gestures at me lazily, his finger coming to a stop against his slightly parted lips, "she sensed something quite extraordinary, but so utterly confusing."

When he says nothing for a few seconds, I just stare at him. "Are you going to elaborate?"

He scoffs. "I thought you would fill in the details. After all, we have such a rapport!"

"We've spoken once."

"And what a conversation that was."

I sigh, and he just laughs, feigning thinking fondly of something on the tip of his memory.

"Alexis had a vision that was quite mind-boggling, and I believe that you can help me rectify that haze."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you do. She has visions, you have visions. You speak from your fancy words, I drink from your flesh, I have your vision."

The hitch in my breath is almost certainly audible to him, and from the growing grin on his face, I try to push it all aside.

"You think I'm going to give you the opportunity to drink my blood?"

"Certainly."

"As absolutely awful as that sounds," I cross my arms, "I'm afraid that I'm going to have to decline."

He leans forward slightly, the top of his expensive shirt open just enough to reveal part of his torso. "My connections are many, connections that I can extend to you. Money, power, admiration – all of it can be yours. I simply wish for clarity, clarity that only someone with your skills can provide."

"You already have a seer."

"She has failed to provide for me what I seek, but a second opinion is warranted. Anyone who can tangle the future of this town as much as you have almost certainly must possess great skill."

I lean back in my chair and try to look smug, try to look like I'm not as terrified as I really am. Is Alexis really keeping such a close eye on Mystic Falls? "Is this the part where you reveal some other leverage you have over me is at stake?"

"Maybe." He smiles his Cheshire grin. "Do you want to take that risk?"

"A vampire like you definitely doesn't walk in here without a back-up plan or two."

"If you plan well, and you're as powerful as I am, who needs a back-up?"

A long moment passes between us until I finally make up my mind. "I have to get back to work."

As I stand, he moves with preternatural speed to grasp my hand, hard enough to hold me in place but not hard enough to harm me. All things considered, it almost feels… gentle. "You'd never to have to work again in your life…" His voice lilts with every word.

"But I'd be working for you. I'll take a hard pass."

He rolls his eyes but grins wide. "Suit yourself. Give your friend my regards."

I stand and return, knowing full well that my break isn't fully over yet. The wait is going to kill me, but I shoulder on, ignoring Lucien's wave goodbye.

"What'd he want?" Matt nearly makes me jump out of my shoes, as he gears up to collect his next table.

"Nothing much, just someone that I know."

"All right. But listen, you're coming to the Lockwood party tonight, right?"

I shrug. "I thought I'd check it out." Gotta make sure nothing fishy happens - terrible things always happen at parties in this town.

"Good, we can hang. Just need a night out, no stress." He grins that beautiful smile. "You got a costume?" When I shake my head, he laughs. "That's all right, Vicki's got some fake blood. We can be murdered busboys."

"Uh, sure. Why not? It's better than going as Harry Potter again." He just laughs, blushing with secondhand embarrassment, and then heads off to collect his next order.


	20. Bystander

The Lockwood mansion serves as a reminder of one of my failures: the moonstone is still missing, and I have no idea where it could be. There's another opportunity to find it, however, if it still exists on the premises, and so I'm here, at this party, to make sure nothing untoward happens.

If I remember correctly, the gang had a party at the school in canon, so it's a mystery that there's even a Lockwood event at all. These are usually excuses for the Council to meet, so that spells bad news.

As the music at the party continues blasting 2009's greatest pop hits, gyrating teenagers dance in costumes both too complicated and too revealing. It's nice to see things so… normal, all things considered. Vicki, for example, isn't a vampire, so that whole situation isn't likely to happen. But other forces were at work, in the town, and I have no idea what to expect if anything hits the fan tonight.

"Sucks that the school's party got cancelled." Nearly all of the words are too low for me to hear properly, but I turn to see Matt approaching, drink in hand for me and for himself. "But there's alcohol, so I think it's fine." The fake blood across his work shirt matches mine, draped across his apron, and if I were much taller, actually muscular, and blond we'd probably look even more alike.

"That would make it worth it." I take a sip, wishing beer tasted better than horse piss, but I figured it'd be in bad taste to refuse.

Elena breaks away from the crowd, saying something to one of her other friends, before approaching, dressed in a stark-white nurse's uniform, complete with the fancy hat. "Matt, we talked about this, didn't we?" The smile on her face is infectious, and a happy Stefan slides up to join her, dressed with a rather authentic uniform from the Second World War.

"About what?" Matt shifts to stand next to me.

"I thought we were going to wear the same costume as last year? You were a doctor, right?"

He frowns. "Why would I do that? We're not dating." Stefan's brow rises in my direction, but I don't know how to decipher that.

"I'm going to go make the rounds. Be back in a moment." Matt's frown deepens but he nods slightly at me, taking a drink. Don't want to get involved in Matt and Elena's potential fight over their break-up.

My goal until this point was to take a survey of the area, make sure everyone is safe, and try for another opportunity to find the moonstone. That little white rock was far too important to not find and hide someone else, behind the strongest cloaking spell that I can make.

Wandering through the throngs of people, the occasional adult influence popping up in the background to pretend to chaperone, I make my way upstairs, noting that Caroline and Bonnie were laughing together near the Halloween punch bowl, both in witch costumes. Good to know that they were not fighting, despite everything that happened at Abby's and definitely not fighting over the Bennett talisman.

The last time that I was here, I had to cloak, but there's no need for that when a ton of teenagers gather together in ornate, colorful costumes. I don't stand out all that much, even in civilian clothes, when every third person is so orange that they nearly hurt your eyes. When I head upstairs, I aim to avoid the people on the stairs and the landing above, looking for the mayor's personal study.

It's not where the Council usually meets, the secret room underneath the stairs. No, this is just a chance to look around as much as I can, under the notion that I'm simply a lost guest or misguided teenager. It's not that difficult to pull off.

When I slip inside, pretending to be a little tipsy in case there were any observers, but the place seems deserted, despite the slightly-burning fireplace flickering light throughout the room, shimmering against the wide windows across from me. Without having to look, I can see half the party is on the lawn in the cool Virginian air outside, enjoying the time of their lives near the pool and the expansive backyard. They are all so blissfully unaware of what is happening.

Pulling a bit of magic from my bracelet, I feel the rush of power flood through me and then focus hard on the fireplace, feeling a connection to channel it form. The words flow from my lips for several moments, all in bastardized witch Latin, as I scan the room for any sign of the moonstone, magically. I figure that if it weren't in the mayor's hiding place, the one that Tyler found the stone in, then this is the next best place to look.

Nothing.

Feeling like the spell was wasted, I start physically searching, in case the spell simply failed or in case it is protected from locator spells – it certainly did not respond to the scrying pen, though that was more for finding individuals, not for objects.

It takes little more than a thought to pull open the locked desk drawer with my mind, snapping the locking mechanism in half. Sifting through it, I sit and start filing through, looking for anything closely resembling it. Finding nothing, I sift through some of the files that I see, hoping – ah, yes. There we are.

A missive – no, these are minutes from the last Council meeting, compiled by Pastor Young himself and addressed for Richard's eyes only. I'm halfway through reading them, to hope for anything interesting, when the door opens slightly.

Flinching, I glance up to see Matt stumble through, grinning as he looks in my direction, before closing the door.

"Sorry, Matt, was just, uh, looking for a copy of the mayor's letter of recommendation he wrote me."

He smiles as he sets another beer on the desk next to me, before leaning against the corner of it, arms crossed as he holds a beer up. "Wanted to see what good things he said about you?"

I close the file and then slide it back quickly, shrugging to try to play it off. "Something like that. Always get a little self-conscious. A guy like him probably has a standard form letter for that kind of thing, though?" I clear my throat and fluff up my chest. "'This candidate has excellent workmanship and an attitude to achieve his greatest potential. You'll not find a better applicant for any position that you offer.'"

Matt chuckles. "All true." He claps my shoulder, hand lingering for a few seconds. "I'd probably add 'compassionate, thoughtful, hilarious.' A truly beautiful person."

I blink.

His hand reaches out again, thumb brushing against the hairs on the side of my neck. My shiver nearly shakes me out of my seat.

What the hell is happening?

Standing, he moves closer even as I try to step away, nearly bowling over the desk chair behind me.

"Uh, Matt, what are you-?"

"You deserve a good time, Logan. If it goes well, then who knows? It'll probably be something more." His brilliant smile is almost as horrific as it is gorgeous, and holy fuck what the hell is going on?

I pull away from him and hold up a hand, and he hesitates for a moment, smirking. The firelight flickers across his perfect teeth.

"Matt, you… you're straight."

"I am." He nods fervently at my utter confusion, eyes flickering up and down at me. "But I can make an exception. For you."

"No. This isn't right, as much as it pains me to say that."

He shrugs. "Give me ten minutes, and I'll show you how right it is."

Oookay.

Think. What…!

"Fuck. Me."

"If you insist…" He moves to close the distance, head tilted and eyes closed, arms poised, lips-

"No, not what I meant!"

I push him forward lightly with a wave of my hand, and he stumbles over a potted plant, landing flat on his back. Focusing intently on him, he falls asleep with another word, before he can get back up.

Lucien Castle.

I lean down and hoist Matt's unconscious body onto the desk chair, annoyed as hell. Standing behind it, I center his head between my hands, each hovering inches above his temples, and begin to focus.

Removing the compulsion, the compulsion to fall for me, is a time-consuming process, but with someone like Matt, it's intensely more motivating for me to finish. No one deserves to be whammied like that, forced to be something that you're not, but especially not Matt. He's one of the good ones.

A few minutes go by as I continue to focus, siphoning Lucien's magic from his system.

When the door slides open again, I curse, wishing that I'd have remembered to lock it. Tyler and Vicki, of all the people, stare from the doorway at the sight of me giving his friend and her brother what may as well be a head massage behind his father's desk. Mouths agape, it would truly be a Kodak moment, if it weren't at Matt's expense.

"It's not what it looks like!"

Tyler, dressed like he walked out of the movie 300, clearly gets angrier the longer this moment continues, but Vicki starts cackling loudly, yanking Tyler's arm. "C'mon, Ty, let's leave these two their privacy."

"They're messing around! In my dad's office!"

"Your dad deserves it. C'mon!" She practically pushes him away from the door, before turning back to look at me. "I'll see you at work, tomorrow!" Her sing-song voice definitely says that this conversation is not over, and I couldn't be more mortified. Not necessarily for me, but for Matt and any grief this might cause.

The door shuts behind me, and I stare out the window for several moments, trying to avoid how awkward this whole thing is and hoping beyond hope that Vicki and Tyler don't tell anyone about it, for Matt's sake.

Fake-outing aside, what's probably worse about this situation is that Matt is going to have questions, questions about the obviously supernatural thing that just happened to him, and questions about Lucien. Is it right for Matt to be aware? Of the gang, only Jeremy, Matt, and Tyler are unaware of the supernatural, but how screwy would it be to bring Matt into the fold? Is it worth it?

Not for me to decide alone.

Sending a text message to Stefan, and speaking his name aloud just in case he was listening and could actually hear, the reply is swifter than I thought. Within a few seconds, the office door opens again, quickly closing behind them as Stefan and Elena enter the room, brows raised.

Elena gasps as she runs to Matt's side, immediately fawning over him. "What happened?"

"I had to put him to sleep," I say after a moment, looking fervently toward the two of them. "You remember that ancient vampire that I told you about?"

Stefan definitely knew what I meant from his concerned eyes, but Elena is all confusion. A lot of this is all very new to her.

"Lucien wants me to help him, to show him some of my visions." I nod to my arm, and Stefan's frown deepens. "He came into the Grill today and offered me a job, basically, and tried to sweeten the deal by throwing around the potential for his influence."

"What's this have to do with Matt?"

I grimace at Stefan's question and continue. "Lucien compelled Matt to fall in love with me. Or lust with me. Whatever. The minute Matt found me alone, he tried to…" I trail off, gesturing to his unconscious form. "He offered Matt up like a prize, a trophyto keep if I work with him."

"And to show just how dangerous he is." Stefan shakes his head.

"There's not a way to break the compulsion, is there? Matt's not gay!" Elena practically pleads the question to Stefan, and the vampire shakes his head. "Oh, God, what are we going to do?"

"Normally, breaking the compulsion requires a human to turn." Elena's eyebrow furrows. "To become a vampire. But fortunately, I'm the exception to the rule."

Stefan just stares, not fully understanding. "You have a spell that can break a compulsion?"

"With the right spell, I think magic can do anything, but it's not a spell for me." I glance down at him. "I can break the compulsion without your help, but there's something else that's a problem. When we do this, there's a damn good chance that Matt will know all about the things that go bump in the night, and he'll remember this whole thing. Should you compel him to forget the whole situation?"

Elena shares a look with Stefan and then with me. "Matt… he's a good guy. He doesn't need to worry about all of this."

Her boyfriend says nothing for a long moment. "The less people that know, the better."

"You'll probably have to find Tyler and Vicki, Matt's sister. They found us alone together in a … compromising position, and I don't like the idea of Matt having to deal with the nasty rumors and attitudes that I did in high school."

Elena exhales heavily at that, before turning to Stefan. "Do what you have to do."

My hand rises slightly. "Not yet. Do you have any vervain with you?"

Stefan catches onto something. "Good idea, there's some in my car."

"Bring me as much as you can, and do it quickly. I can cast a spell with it to protect Matt from Lucien, so that if he tries anything like that again, he'll be safe."

The vervain ward has likely faded from Vicki at this point, but this is the safest bet for Matt at the moment. The old bastard won't know what hit him, if he tries it again.

After explaining that it will make his skin dangerous for vampires to touch and protect against compulsion, Stefan vamps away to grab the gear from his trunk. Elena nervously stands, watching the parking lot from her perch in the window. I continue siphoning from Matt's mind, just trying to make sure that all the magic is gone before Stefan returns.

"What do you think about all this, anyway?"

She turns slightly, brushing her hair out of her face. "All of what?"

"Your life is insane, Elena. Don't you wish that you could just pretend that you were a normal teenager again?"

She looks away, her reflection pensive in the window pane. "I haven't been a normal teenager since March, so yeah. I do." She turns back to look at me, almost accusingly. "Not that I have a choice, anyway."

"There's always a choice, Elena, if you work hard enough to achieve it."

"It doesn't feel that way when you're around."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Stefan's acted all weird since we took that trip to Bonnie's mom's place, and I saw you talking to him seriously. He won't say anything directly, but I pay attention. I'm not just an innocent bystander in all this, am I?"

Insightful question of the damn century.

"No. No, you're not."


	21. No Plan Survives...

The music of the party below increases in volume for a moment, nearly breaking me from my chant, and returns to a low dim as the door quickly closes. Doing any magic in a busy place like this is usually such a bad idea, with this many eyes and witnesses, but at least magic isn’t as flashy here as it would be with wands and light shows. At the very least, this high school would think their local busboy and their quarterback were involved in some weird drugs, or maybe some voodoo BS. Ignorance very much isn’t bliss in this town.

Stefan sniffs the air a moment and flinches, winces, as he walks into the room. Sensing the disturbance, Elena runs to her boyfriend, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, my fault.” I gesture to the spell once more, at the burning vervain incense in a bowl and the subtly shifting smoke, billowing toward Matt every few moments to coat him with it. “That root, if you didn’t already know, is poisonous to vampires. If the smoke were any more concentrated, I think Stefan would have fallen unconscious, or worse.”

He nods once, still at obvious discomfort, and then vamps backwards faster than I can blink, neatly avoiding slamming into the wall. An almost graceful gentleness. “Should have waited a few more minutes to come in.”

Elena clearly doesn’t know what to say about the situation, and then twists back to Matt’s unconscious form. “So you’re sure that he won’t remember anything?”

“It’s not foolproof.” Stefan coughs once and then wipes his watering eyes, trying to regain his composure. At least his skin isn’t sizzling. “Not for me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Elena asks. “I thought compulsion was…“ The girl trails off, more aware each moment that she’s out of her element.

My eyes meet Stefan’s gaze, looking for some sort of go-ahead. When he subtly nods, I return the gesture. “Vampire abilities are muted when they subsist on animal blood, rather than drink human blood.”

“Matt might vaguely remember bits and pieces of what he has experienced.” From his pained expression, it’s clear that he’s got some anguish over that whole situation.

“Not enough that he’ll really know anything. He’s strong-willed,” I add quickly, even though I’m not 100% certain that I even believe that. Just hoping that it’s enough that Matt can go back to a normal life after this. If I can convince Damon to help, maybe he can compel the knowledge away more permanently.

“I feel like I need to read a manual.” Elena grimaces as she considers the rulebook changing from day to day, week to week. She has no idea how often that did happen, season to season and sometimes episode to episode.

As the minutes go by, the spell finishes taking shape, as Elena and Stefan watch with interest. Matt doesn’t wake up throughout the process – he’s currently compelled to believe that he got far too drunk and passed out, without remembering how he got in Richard’s office. Simple enough and usually affective. Tyler and Vicki were easy enough to find for Stefan in a few minutes, though I didn’t want to know the details of what they were doing when he did.

“What are you going to do about Lucien?” Stefan asks, cutting into the silence as I start packing away my equipment, allowing him to handle his leftover vervain as carefully as a prepared vampire could.

“I can’t accept his offer in good conscience.” A sigh. “But I can’t let him hurt anyone else, either.”

“From what you’ve said, he’s not likely to give up if you turn it down.” Stefan fixates on the dancing flames in the fireplace.

“We can’t just let him keep messing around with our lives. My life.” Elena’s near fiery expression would be impressive if she were more aware of everything that is happening, but determined!Elena is best Elena. It’s clear that she’s still thinking about what I admitted to her earlier, about her place at the center of all this fate. I wasn’t any more specific than that, but I think the point comes across regardless. 

“He’s more than a millennium old. I doubt twelve Stefans could best him, without a specific strategy in mind, and not without losses.” I sigh. “Might even need more. Someone like him gets what he wants and laughs at a challenge.”

Elena paces slightly, weighing the options. “We’ve seen him during the day, so he’s got a daylight ring. He drinks human blood, so he’s stronger.”

“Stronger by age alone, by default.”

Always was slightly curious just how the difference in aging worked, but the only consistent factor was that catching elder vampires off-guard with something is usually how you can manage it. A good example of that was the first fight between the brothers and Elijah. A secret witch in the backburner is just the right kind of cleverness, but is somewhat countered by the fact that he’s got a whole organization of people in town.

“Vervain still weakens him.” Stefan raises the container under his arm. “And he still needs an invitation to get inside someone’s home.”

Sensing the train of thought, I counter. “He’ll just burn the house down or destroy it with a few well-aimed pebbles.” I shake my head. “And vervain tolerance is a thing.”

Stefan peers at me, disbelieving. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. It’s how vampires sometimes evade the more well-known hunters.” Starting to wonder if my bloody charade with the banks in nearby towns is going to draw in Alaric or not. Don’t want to have to off Mr. Tanner myself, as much of a dick as he is. “I wouldn’t expect that to work on him, but don’t rule it out.”

As the seconds pass, Elena glances toward the door. “We should probably get Bonnie and Caroline. They can help us plan.”

“If you wish.” Clearing my throat, I continue. “Just be warned that neither of them is in a position to directly help. Bonnie’s improved from where she started, but she’d be putting herself unnecessarily in harm’s way to do it, whether her mom or grandmother are involved or not.”

It’s almost hilarious how outmatched the kids in Mystic Falls are, at this point. This feels like the end-boss popping up on level two to ruin your day.

Crossing her arms in defeat at that idea, she frowns. “We can’t just sit by and let him threaten everyone.”

“You’re right, Elena. We can’t.” I sigh after a moment, wishing that there were a better option. “The only option that I have is to get as close to him as I can, learn what I can about his company’s and his motivations, and hopefully leave him in a vulnerable position.” Elena starts to object, but Stefan’s pensive look is calm enough to know that things might go wrong. “The issue that we have, here, is that his organization could be expansive enough that any move that we make directly against him will be met with violence against the town, and potentially against all of us. He’s well-connected – if we somehow manage to take him down, that’s not a guarantee to be the end of it.”

“What are a vampire, two and a half witches, and a bunch of humans going to do against someone like that?” Elena asks.

Stefan considers it a moment and then meets my eyes. “Even the playing field.”

..:O:..

Returning home that night was an experience, if only because I expected to get jumped at every turn, to see a man in the street blocking the path of my car. At this point, I don’t even think that I would stop, regardless of who it was. The stress was getting to me, and I wish I had partaken in as much beer as the underage drunkards could offer me.

“Make sure everyone in your house knows not to invite anyone inside,” were the last words that I said to Elena, and she promised that she would figure something out. Convincing Jeremy and Jenna how to do that without spilling the beans is her prerogative. 

Reaching anyone experienced in these matters who could actually help is the plan, at the moment, to increase our odds of victory, without many casualties. 

There was a nonzero chance that they would be amenable to this, but it’s not something that I choose to do at all if I didn’t feel forced into it. Opening that can of worms, this soon after I left the coven? I can hardly imagine thinking that I'd be in this situation a year ago. 

Erecting the salt line barrier around the room, it magically kicked into gear with a slight adjustment of my foot, already spelled to activate the moment the sand completed a boundary.

The scrying pen hovers in a loose grip over a globe on my desk, a finger in the other hand lightly causing the globe to spin round and round. The tool snaps to the surface with a ping of blood from its tip, revealing that the target is in the area. Pinpointing that location with a more detailed map of the region itself is the next step, and it only gets more precise from there. I repeat that step on a few other names, just to have as much information in my pocket before I move on. 

With a tug of magic into my system from my newer watch, the incantation completes with a single word as the incense near me begins to burn of its own accord, the heat exuding across the desk’s surface and into the parchment.

"Megan,

"Sorry to skip the greeting. I wouldn’t ask for this under any normal circumstance, especially only a few months in, but I’m up shit creek without a paddle, here. Don’t feel bad if you cannot help.

"The eldest non-Original vampire in all of existence has moved into town and has apparently taken a horrid interest in me. The fucker brainwashed a coworker into loving me and is trying to recruit me to his cause, thinking me as good at forecasting as you are. 

"Again, if you cannot manage to send assistance my way, I will not hold it against you. But I could really use the help, here, or this Lucien Castle will be the death of me and this town as a whole. 

"Sorry that we cannot chat more often. Send my regards to Baileigh and Hannah, will you?

"Logan."

That letter might be one of the toughest things that I’ve ever written. Formalizing a need for help, no matter how reasonable, should be the realistic response. And yet, I feel awful that I cannot think of a way to do this, that doesn’t involve groveling to a coven that doesn’t want me, to a mother that isn’t even really mine.

Damon and Stefan have contacts to potentially pull on, assuming that the latter can get the former to work together with the rest of us. The fact that Damon hasn’t seemingly murdered someone after I spoke with him is as much a miracle as the fact that no one has gone missing while Lucien has been in town. Still have no idea how I got Blue-Eyes Italian Vampire to listen to me.

Dropping the crumpled letter into the burning bowl, the smoke dissipates quickly as the slip of paper essentially vanishes, traveling to its intended target, hopefully soon. It’d be so much faster and more efficient to figure out that astral projection spell, but work smarter, not harder. A cell phone would be the easiest, admittedly, but definitely not as cool as magic.

After not receiving a reply, I stare at both rings of salt within the room for nearly two hours before sleep finally takes me. A restless night awaits.


	22. Chapter 22

The Mystic Falls branch office of Kingmaker, Lucien Castle’s company, is nearly completely renovated. An existing building was purchased and quickly staffed within the past few months, though I had yet to confirm if everyone here bought into Lucien’s twisted plans, or if they were all compelled to look and behave like your average office to develop undeveloped land properties. Either way, the signs of a renovation company still fill the parking lot nearest to the backdoor.  
  
The near billboard-sized sign sits outside, prominently displaying their most public project to the highway: a series of tourist trap four to five-star hotels to “experience historic Mystic Falls, Virginia.” They were scheduled to begin breaking ground in the spring, though I wouldn’t be surprised if it were sooner. It’s all a front for something, but I don’t know what. The only real history here is something too awful to really be celebrated.  
  
My phone captures an image of the sign as the autumn air cuts me to my core, leaves rustling all around me. The text reply from Elena is quick, much quicker than I ever learned to do. He’s really planning to be here for a while, then?  
  
The group thread dings with another message before I can even put my phone down; only Caroline is that fast. There’s no way my mom would let him stick around here if she knew what he was.  
  
I sigh, not sure how to broach that whole topic. At the moment, the others were not completely aware of the founding families’ involvement, but keeping them in the dark is only going to cause issues. Especially Caroline. That said, I don’t want to see her upset, so it’s a no-win situation. Ripping the band-aid off in a way that leaves me some semblance of “I didn’t keep this from you for weeks” feels more appropriate.  
  
The sun shines brightly on my neck, confidently protecting me from vampires under his employ who do not have a daylight ring. Something tells me that he wouldn’t share that with many of his followers – he’s too much like Klaus to trust anyone that implicitly without some real effort. That said, the windows on this building have definitely been replaced with the best sunlight-proof windows that money can buy, so going inside won’t be anywhere near as safe.  
  
Magic flows in my system for now, and it’s on my person if I need more. I already checked the scrying pen – he’s here, now. He wants me to join him, to work for him. Just have to play along, while the others get ready for whatever is next.  
  
I wish I were a better liar.  
  
“Excuse me, ma’am.” The somewhat pudgy redhead at the front of the elaborate, modern office twists up her frown into the most awkward fake smile that I can imagine; she’s a terrible liar too. “Let Lucien Castle know that I’m here to speak with him.”  
  
No need for fake cordiality. There’s a strong chance she’s as evil as they come.  
  
Fiddling with the phone, the slightly plump woman nods after half a second. “What business do you have with Mr. Castle today?”  
  
“None that overlap with yours, Patty.”  
  
After a long, grumbling sigh, she dials the intercom. At the sound of the beep, three dark-haired men enter into the awful fluorescent light, each showing signs of vaguely implacable nationalities and general attractive features. It’s not that every attractive person that I meet might be a vampire, but ugly people aren’t as likely to be turned; handsome or pretty features are desired by everyone, but especially when vampires look for whom to turn in a crowd. After all: why would you want to share your eternity with someone like Steve Buscemi when you could aim for Ian Somerhalder?  
  
Either way, I suspect the three of them are vampires, moving in unison to guard the lobby from my presence. Smartly, they stand far enough away from the glass double doors that letting the sunlight properly inside would give them enough time to get out of the way. Their hands are coolly clasped behind them, hiding potential daylight rings.  
  
I try to ignore them, though they cannot help but occasionally send predatory glances my way. All three of them would love the chance to feed. An odd thought comes to mind to provoke them, but that’s suicide.  
  
Patty returns to my attention. “An escort will be down soon enough. Have a seat.”  
  
The uncomfortable bench is uncomfortable, but I know for a fact that Lucien is just keeping me waiting on purpose. Or perhaps this bitch is. Either way, it’s a petty show of power.  
  
Finding my seat, I casually sit in as best a position as I can. “How long have you been working for Lucien, Patty?”  
  
She rolls her eyes as she answers the ringing phone, and it turns out Lucien does enjoy delivering small mercies. There are no terrible waiting room magazines.  
  
The group thread continues as I wait, but no real ground is covered. Damon’s still on the outside of my plans and not communicating with Stefan or anyone else. Matt’s not spoken to anyone in a couple days, but Vicki’s been to work recently. Bonnie has arguably more on her plate than Elena’s impending demise, between magic and reconciling with her family. Meanwhile, Elena remains as confused as ever about all this, second only to Caroline, but they’re all learning.  
  
Involving them in all this is probably a mistake, but I know they’re capable allies. Finding and killing one of the Five would probably be a good thing overall for Jeremy, assuming television logic would still choose Jeremy to be the next hunter, but that opens far too many cans of worms, both morally and practically.  
  
Finally, a beautiful redheaded woman enters the room from the elevator in the hallway, striding toward me in a sleek black dress that is by no means professional, nor suited for before ten in the morning. The two of us lock eyes from across the room, and the vampire guards stand at attention between the two of us, hawk-like eyes following my every move.  
  
Alexis, Lucien’s witch, the one who can prominently forecast enough of the future to drive an entire season’s plotline. That’s far more impressive than any predicting that I’ve ever done, but not sure how she compares to Megan, my not-mother.  
  
“It’s nice of you to join us, Logan.”  
  
“It’s nice to meet you too. Alexis, right?”  
  
We shake hands, and she links arms with me, leading me toward the elevator. No messages pass between us through our close proximity, but for all I know, I’ll never be able to read her. She seems the type to have that sometimes-tactile-insight blocked away. Bonnie’s better at it than me, anyhow.  
  
The button for the top floor is not as impressive as it might be in a city like New Orleans, this one only the fifth floor. Even so, I still suspect that the entire top floor is his to play with.  
  
“I’ve seen a lot about you. Curious events lie ahead.” She’s a smooth talker and far too pretty to now know it.  
  
“They always do.”  
  
Calm elevator music fills the silence as we ride to the top, though she does not let go of my arm the entire time. She must know that I could siphon away her magic and leave her defenseless, so this, too, is just to display her advantage.  
  
Not having it.  
  
I reach up with a finger on the button to hold the door to the elevator closed before it can open, muttering a single word to cloak our audio for a few seconds.  
  
“Witch to witch, seer to seer. Why do you work for him?”  
  
She glances down at the floor, nonplussed, as she does nothing to interact with the magic cloaking us for the moment. Her eyes meet mine. “My reasons are my own, just as I’m sure that your reasons are your own for why you are here.”  
  
I’m tempted to break into the whole “servants of nature” situation, but I’ve never really bought into that philosophy. It’d feel hollow.  
  
“What have you seen about me?”  
  
With a feat of strength that is not at all impressive for someone of his abilities, the double doors slide open against the will of the elevator’s technology to reveal a sharply-dressed thousand-year-old man with dark hair and a slender build, his eyes sparkling excitedly like he would with any potential guest. With a metallic whine, I drop my hand from the button and end the spell, just as he wipes a bit of blood away from his mouth, leaving it mostly dry but stained. A glimmer in his eye meets my gaze, before he turns to address the room.  
  
“Apologies for the disarray. I’m a messy eater.” He clicks his teeth, and two half-dressed women on auto-pilot stand from their lounging positions, not bothering to hold their wounded necks from dripping across the neat hardwood. “Run along friends, and be sure to come back for dinner.”  
  
They make their exit down the elevator shaft, leaving Alexis and I in the small foyer with him. She moves to adjust his tie, but he brushes her off with a lazy wave of his hand, before stepping far too close to me for comfort. “Would you mind?”  
  
I stare at him for a long moment and then carefully adjust the piece of fabric, feeling a bit of not-quite-dry blood against my fingers. As I hold it taut against his throat for longer than necessary, I wish that siphoning were something that could do more damage immediately than just causing him pain.   
  
“Did you enjoy my gift?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Come now, some part of you must have enjoyed the prospect. I could smell your attraction to him from a mile away.” When I shake my head fervently, anger steadily rising, he sighs. “Perhaps another candidate then?”  
  
“No! No matter what the rest of my dealings here may hold, I don’t want you to do that to anyone else, or threaten anyone else that I care about.” I grit my teeth tighter with each word. “I should kill you where you stand for that. Toying with someone’s life to make them a… plaything? In what universe would you think that’s okay?”  
  
“A fun one?” He laughs as he steps away and stands behind the desk, drumming his fingers across it, and then gestures for us to find a seat. “I can see your point, Logan. I promise that nothing of the sort will happen again.”  
  
“Am I supposed to believe you?”  
  
“You’ll have to learn to.”  
  
Alexis scoffed. “Lucien’s more bark than bite.”  
  
I’m not sure that I could have rolled my eyes harder if I tried. “So… why am I here, Lucien? What is it that you need me to do?”  
  
Lucien grins a Cheshire grin, and I finally take a seat on a chair as far away from the bloody sofa as I can.  
  
“This world is nothing but a complex network made of several… interwoven threads. The food wars amongst itself, ignorant to the hidden factions that should and ultimately do hold the true authority in this chaotic world. Even still, threats rise and powers fall at every turn. I wish to have every advantage at my disposal to… weave my interests into the fabric.”  
  
This philosophy is fascinating, but he strikes me as nowhere near as Lawful Evil as that statement may read.  
  
“Why haven’t you stepped in to stop human wars, then? A bit of compulsion here and there, and no politician in the world would have a desire to declare war.”  
  
Lucien blinks, and then his face stretches into a smile again. “I have a feeling that a colleague of mine would love to have you in his employ. He is far more concerned with… nobler pursuits for our superiority than I.”  
  
Tristan and his Strix.  
  
“So you don’t actually have a problem with it, then.”  
  
He shakes his head. “Not especially. It is wasteful, but oh so fun to see them all riled up over a few dozen dead in some horrid desert. Getting the sand out of my teeth was so difficult the last time that I was there.” He chuckles, and then leans in as though sharing a secret. “One day, I hope you get the chance to experience just how much better they taste when they are in distress. There is nothing like it.”  
  
I do not miss the glance that Alexis just gave to me upon hearing that. How much does she know about what I would be if I transitioned?  
  
Hell… she may have seen it. I don’t quite defeat the shudder that rumbles through my shoulders, and Lucien’s eyes twinkle.  
  
Clearing my throat, I resettle on another thought. “So... what, then? Are Alexis and I just tools for you to make sure you end up on top? Foresee threats before they come.”  
  
“I prefer the term resource, and I can be a resource to you, Logan. You’ve already seen one way that I can help you.”  
  
My fist clenches, a fact that does not go unnoticed. An immaculate eyebrow rises in response, but Alexis interjects. “That idea aside, we can aid one another and find common ground.”  
  
“Yes. Alexis can teach you to wield the future like a scalpel, to carve out your greatest desires.”  
  
I peer at him, my brow raised this time. “Do you prefer a scalpel for that thing you do to your face, or will any old knife do?”  
  
The mirth disappears quickly. He feigns serenity after a few short seconds, anger brewing beneath his gaze. He calmly stands, approaches the fireplace, and stares at the cool firewood. Alexis eyes me curiously, feeling the tension in the room, and he waves at her without looking back at us.  
  
As though understanding a signal, she clears her throat. “When I was ten and barely conscious of magic, something that my coven called a psychic quake shuddered through me. Names, images, faces and words that I didn’t recognize were a mix inside my mind, and I ran in terror from my family, not understanding the horrors that I alone truly witnessed. Years of working through those visions became an obsession, and a few years ago, I sought out the most prominent figure that I witnessed in them.” She gestures to the man before her.  
  
Interesting and certainly something that the show did not cover specifically, but…. “Why are we talking about this?”  
  
The redhead shares a face of disappointment, lazily playing with a piece of fabric on her dress. “Because working with Lucien would get me to you.”  
  
“Me?”  
  
“You – a Gemini newborn who triggered a psychic quake.”  
  
Oh.  
  
Oh…   
  
He mentioned my involvement before, but this? This is definitely not good.  
  
Lucien’s smirk is brilliant as he stands before us, hands clasped together before him. “You’re the reason that I’ve come to town, Logan, and the future is bright for all of us. You just need to play nice.”  
  
The cell vibrates in my jeans as I contemplate my next move carefully.  
  
“I don’t know what you thought, or what you saw, but –“  
  
“Let me show you.” The cloth in her hand burns suddenly with vibrant smoke, spiraling around us. I’m not fast enough to avoid breathing it in, and my head slumps against the back of the couch. Sharp pain strikes into my wrist.  
  
**_..:O:.._**  
  
_A darkly-lit room smells of sterile chemicals and sheets of blood-covered plastic. A masculine figure covered with an apron and wearing goggles and a facemask stands over a gurney, a still-twitching body strapped to it.  
  
The gurney turns with a forceful shove from the doctor, revealing a bound Tyler Lockwood, his cries muffled from the huge contraption strapped to his face. Yellow liquid collects within tubes, trailing off toward some sort of collection chamber.  
  
“Now now, there’s no need to struggle.” Why is that voice familiar? “Just like all the rest.”   
  
With a solid and desperate kick, Tyler manages to knock over a stand full of tools. As the doctor scrambles backward, syringe in hand, he hits the cabinet haphazardly. Tyler’s screams begin anew when the head of his uncle falls off a shelf and lands on his chest, eyes unblinking at him and jaw broken.   
_  
**_..:O:.._**  
  
_The flames and smoke filling the night sky over Mystic Falls are nothing compared to the figures that dance across the street with impossible speed, my eyes unable to track them quickly enough to understand their identities. Wooden benches splinter into pieces, become projectiles thrown with impossible speed, and crack the not-yet-melted glass store-fronts. Car windows shatter as bodies crash against one another, and the front of a semi-truck flips end over end and smashes through the front door of the Mystic Grill.  
  
The vision shifts, focuses on the shimmering blade sticking from the clocktower. The metal of the shortsword flickers in the fire-light as the flames threaten to approach the building. The hilt of the sword glows as the familiar jewel glows vibrantly in the chaos, almost taking in the light and the heat around it.   
  
An obscure shape bolts up the wall with an impressive move of parkour, snatches the weapon from its perch, and descends downward in a blur. The figure bounds, step after step, right toward Caroline Forbes, her fangs on display.   
_  
**_..:O:.._**  
  
_The flood of images and sounds melds into the unmistakable angry roar of Niklaus Mikaelson as he warps and twists with pain, body contorting into the form of a great lupine beast over the course of seconds. Lightning cracks and wind swirls around him, a great storm bearing down upon the forest and threatening to flood the nearby lake, reflecting the light of the moon._  
  
The pained anger becomes a howl, fresh blood dripping from his fur as he races through the forest, climbing with voracious speed up the embankment. The crunch of the canopy floor beneath his feet, the whine of the wind, and booming thunder is all anyone can hear.   
  
He collides with nothing, rolling to a stop in the same breath as he returns to his canine feat, growling at forested manor. Several familiar voices chant in unison and fill the silence, yet I step onto the porch with my palms raised upward, electricity sparking between them and surging all around me.  
  
The Original Hybrid howls once more, charging at the boundary even as ozone fills the forest. Electricity arcs toward him, forcing his immortal body to char and blacken as his flesh and his fur burns. His charge ends before he reaches me, body twitching as lightning makes its mark for a split-second, and it's through a great force of will that he remains in wolf form.   
  
A new but expected figure darts onto the scene, stopping for a split-second before he strikes Klaus with a powerful kick, sending the wolf flying. A bloody smile with too large fangs marks the appearance of Lucien Castle, eyes as red as blood.   
  
**..:O:..**  
  
My eyes flutter with surprise, and a bit of focus shoves Lucien away several feet, shoes scuffing the hardwood as he slides to a stop almost gracefully. Blood from my wrist stains his sofa once more and ruins the front of shirt, and Alexis nearly shares his smirk.  
  
“Fuck.”  
  
“My thoughts exactly.” He wipes away the blood with his bare hand, licking his fingers. “What do you think that you saw?”  
  
“I don’t know.” My instincts haven’t led me wrong so far.  
  
“Don’t lie to me. The mayor and the sheriff have such interesting children, not yet enveloped in the world of the supernatural. They frequent that awful restaurant nearly as much as you do.” He leans in, grinning. “Yet here they are.”  
  
“If you hurt them, I swear-“  
  
He laughs. “I’m not interested in them.” Face contorting into a serious expression, he leans closer. “Who were you bravely attempting to barbecue, Logan?”  
  
Fuck.  
  
Is he skipping over the Phoenix Sword intentionally?  
  
“You’re going to tell me anyway, aren’t you?”  
  
With mirth, he pulls back and chuckles. “Of course. That would be none other than Niklaus Mikaelson. You seem to be rather intelligent, so you’ve likely heard stories about him, haven’t you?”  
  
I nod, playing along as I rub my wrist carefully. “Witch circles say he’s the worst of the Old Ones, but I’ve never seen a picture of him. All rumors. Wasn’t sure what to believe.”  
  
Lucien’s eyes twinkle. “Well, these visions are certainly hard to believe, but Niklaus being part-beast certainly explains a bitabout his behavior over the centuries.” He says it like it’s a joke, but it’s anything but. Alexis watches the exchange with a bit of smugness that feels off. Maybe she’s the one who figured that part out.  
  
“This shouldn’t be possible.”  
  
Lucien shrugs. “It certainly goes against what most believe possible, but in my experience, many things are possible with enough effort, a bit of elbow grease, and the right spell.”  
  
He turns without consideration for the conversation, approaching his desk. Thumbing carefully through a stack of books, he pulls just the right one with a graceful flourish. Bound in maroon leather and tied tight, the relatively new book shows no signs of yellowing pages. If it’s a grimoire, it’s new.  
  
“Write down everything that you think would make such a… hybrid between an Original vampire and the werewolf possible.”  
  
I stare blankly at him.  
  
Was… this his plan in the show? I thought Tristan, Lucien, and Aurora wanted to trap him with that weird inescapable prison spell. Or is this some weird consequence of him getting involved in the plot earlier than he should? Does he even know about the curse on Klaus, or even the faintest idea of how this all shakes out?  
  
Feigning ignorance, I hold up a hand. “The Gemini Coven hasn’t encountered werewolves before – this is all new information to me. How would I-?”  
  
“Tell me your theories. Write them down.” His face grows terse with every word, forcing the journal ever so closer. “Share what you think, what you believe, about how something like this could be possible, and what you think it would take to do it.”  
  
Fuck.  
  
Alexis shares his grin from her position on the other sofa, lounging. “We can work this out together, Logan.”  
  
There’s an opportunity here, somewhere, to fuck him over. Give him the wrong ingredient, give him the wrong words, leave out a specific component. Beyond the fact that it shouldn’t be possible for him to have any werewolf abilities, there’s so much nuance in how magic works that it would be ridiculously easy to ruin such a spell.  
  
And that’s what worries me. Alexis is not the only witch in his employ, and I’m sure that I’m not the only witch working on this. If they get closer or if Alexis notices that I’m baking in a fatal flaw, then I’m fucked.  
  
...  
  
There is even more of an opportunity to help myself.   
  
I shakily pull the journal from his hand.  
  
Lucien claps his hands together. “I am glad that we can come to an arrangement.”


End file.
